Between the layers of dry wall, the recordings await for the willing listener. Resonating screams, barest of whispers, replay with the track stuck on the turning table fueled by the neglect of centuries, standing in the rain as the world pours the weight of their problems on the bearings, supporting the weakening screws. Rusting with the thoughts of forever alone, it tilts to the fall, becoming the heap upon the floor. The nothing of a decomposed structure, marked as the link that didn’t cusp correctly to the next. Abandoned to the isle where the animals seek refuge in the trees, away from sparks of life, fear of being hunted like dim souls in the softest hours of night.

Footfalls rasp against the air of a once standing room, breathing in the air that never came into the lungs; never pumping the hope of tomorrow through the veins to the arteries of the heart. Knocks caressing doors no longer standing, wandering forever in the darkest shadows of abysmal hallways where the damned spend the counting days as panic rages in the mind of time. She is the mistress of this weathered storm, feared by all and worshiped by the few with the courage to cross the arbitrary line of existence. 

Ask yourself this then: what lies beyond the line drawn upon cascaded sand? Would you find bliss in between grains or misguided antonyms and lost opposites? Would you dare cross or stay in your place? The layers grow thin as fabrics fade within brick, within paint and plaster– soon the whispers will die down along with this decomposed structure until nothing is left but rubble and ruination.

The whispers tell of a window slowly closing– opportunity gaps behind awning irises.  She rests her ear upon the other side as she waits– as she listens for a reply. Will you answer through ill-tuned screams or remain silent? Time is fleeting and you must decide soon listener to either cross the line– collapse into an unknown future or stay along familiar paradoxes you pray to end? The risk is a steep fall–
though here she waits for your answer until the window locks itself away from the light forever. 

A Collaboration:

Tumblr Crushes:

I told myself I won’t post my crush list that often anymore, but I couldn’t resist. The three-way battle for the top spot is thrilling. Roggy also claimed back a spot. But other than that it’s the same old story on my crush list.