Mortalhood

Red, orange, yellow, grey. The wind, visible in the flames, screams past. It pushes past me and I close my eyes, block the sight out. Concentrate, block the sound out. The smell won't go away, and it doesn't smell like a friendly campfire. The nostalgic campfire that I so desperately want it to be. It smells like fear. Like empty words. An apology someone makes you say just so they can sleep at night. A rushed lullaby someone mumbles to ease the baby's wail. To ease that someone's mind. My eyes open and the scene hasn't changed. The people continue to run. The house continues to burn. And I continue to stare. I continue t

 It's funny. I don't know what to do, but I don't want to sit here and do nothing. He left me in a pocket of library. What else can I do, but read something? I flip onto my back and stare up and around me at the walls of books. The shelves would probably go just below my head if I were to stand up. Which I would never do. My eyes scan for a book that is colorful because I don't need any dark colors at this moment. Can I ask for just that? Give me a happy book. A funny book. A book with a happily-ever-after. I finally see one that has a calming sky-blue color. Its title is, "The Sea is Happy." Right on. A book with the word 'happy' in th

that i can't search for 'twilight' and find pretty pictures of the time between dawn and sunrise // sunset and dusk. instead, i find pictures of sparkling vampires and a war for // against a book series. i just want to look at pretty things. halp.