Another nightime ramble…
The air is still
We stroll through the hills demise
Tunneling lands that we were unaware had anything left
Suffocation so satisfying that I no longer yearn my own breath
Those supple lips pressed against my ear. My jaw clenched.
“Agony only becomes unbearable when your core battles weakness.”
The voice ceased. My bones were undisturbed.
Apprehension fled from my essence within an instant
I began to question horror
Was it the serenity inside dark eyes belonging to the character that taunted at an infantile daughter?
Was it the race of the thrash that buried into my chest with no getaway?
Or was it my own perception too uneasy to discern what was the authenticity of my mentality or the forged witness who bore down my beginning?