the texture of the paper that i lay my right hand on, soft and silky yet so old i could feel it. turning the page again to know that i can see the next piece, another piece, so dated yet tearing me. can something ever really be so old that you can't see beyond to its vices; that's not this at all. this is all just a piece that i have constructed for you to read and i applaud you for doing so. sometimes it might get hard to see through the window, seeing as how you're blocked from access now. but that's alright, because i know you're trying to see through it, through all this fog, but please. please stop before you might ruin yourself in trying to see that it's all going to end well, because. because we all know it will, and so do i. that is all everything is to me when i dedicate it to you.
YOU ARE READING
Follow Me
Horrorthis was more of an experimental work -- the predicate upon which the more current work is being produced. I hope that when the time comes for a new work you all will enjoy it. Thank you for reading.
