Slow as molasses. Etherial, crawling, oozing.
I'm lost here. It's dark. Maybe I have my eyes closed, because I don't like what I see when I open them.
Everyone says it's not wrong to hope and dream, but when the dreams don't come and the hope burns to ash, all that you're left with is an empty vase.
If I close my eyes, I can dream.
I don't see the hope burning.
I'm lost here. It's dark. Maybe I have my eyes closed, because I don't like what I see when I open them.
Everyone says it's not wrong to hope and dream, but when the dreams don't come and the hope burns to ash, all that you're left with is an empty vase.
If I close my eyes, I can dream.
I don't see the hope burning.
- Current Mood:gothy
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magicmarmot- Tom Ramcigam
- Magic Marmot Studios
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I shall be over here, communing with the darkness and brooding...
Or an empty shell of a chest, where I knew my heart once was.
Yeah, I liked your phrasing a lot. Vacillating between (among?) despair, numb & angry, I *get* that feeling. I *get* it rather well.
And when I finally sleep & dream, I'm crawling through abandoned houses full of dead people, running from someone who's coming to *hurt* me.... I think I prefer the numb, if only for right now.
*hugs* You're a braver soul than I am, Gunga Din.
Sometimes, it really *isn't* pretentious angst.... sometimes it is hurt, and loneliness and (occasionally) despair.
Thank goodness emotions are chemical, and as such, are temporary (now if I could only *believe* that for more than an hour at a time.... and if I could just master this "patience" thing....)