Tag Archives: catastrophe
I don’t follow you
I don’t follow you into the dark, but not because I don’t trust you. I don’t follow you into the dark, but not because you won’t save me. I don’t follow you into the dark because instead, I know the … Continue reading
Leaving Again
“Shh,” he whispered, his bright eyes wide, in the dark. “Hush,” he murmured, reaching forward one hand, two fingers touching my lips, silencing me. I tried to part them again, but those so-blue eyes glittered, and the hand against my … Continue reading
Leap
Down the steps of the subway station, and suddenly, vertigo. I was here. I’ve been here. She stood near the gap, turning slowly, looking around, confusion widening her eyes, furrowing her brow. What is it about this place? She catches … Continue reading
Disbelief
I can’t imagine another sunset without you. I cannot fathom the constant quiet. Even with music, even with the onslaught of traffic and humanity, all I hear is the lack of you. There is an echo of silence in the … Continue reading
Miss Misery
Strains of Elliot Smith in the apartment; she listens to the iPod through its bluetooth speaker, and wanders around, putting things back where they belong. It’s like cleaning up after an earthquake. A flood. A fire. There’s a damage, here, … Continue reading