Why does it have to be this way... isn't there another avenue or format? Waking to the stale air birthed by nightmares, unmoved and undesired... crawling on the floor like a driven beast of burden. I yearn for the taste, the essence, a desire once known. The cutting eyes and razor tongues of man... forcing the survivor to pry flesh from the bone. I can see it, it's there... one foot be 10,000 miles of thought. It's in her eyes, the delicate touch, a fire burning... the heart is yearning, as the fears are turning. Awake. Rise. Step forward... the masks are withered and crusted of salt. What will it be, when the hands touch the sky... another moment of lapsing or perhaps misery of what would come. It doesn't matter, not really... there's no one home to answer the door. But I watched her... as if I was never there.
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