there's a burning feeling in my soul, searing through my lungs and heart until I’m charred to the bone. Smoke rises to my brain, clouding my thoughts with a foggy haze. Anything I say evaporates into thin air like there was nothing there at all. If I could reach out and touch a raincloud, maybe the fire would be set out. So why are the best things out of my reach? I’m always wanting more, but once I feel the water on my skin I wish to be warm again. If I could jump to the stars, I would. I would build a home on mars and never return to earth. I would live inside a crater and hide behind the sun, and yet I would still long to be found by whatever ten-legged, three-eyed gruesome creature lurked in the shadows.
writing in desc ^ hope you enjoy! so I tried something. I closed my eyes and cleared my mind and wrote down every single word that came to mind, and this was the result. i guess it's kind of a way to tap into the subconscious mind? anyways now i have to decipher it. why do i always find a way to write about outer space and rain. or some other body of water. so far i have posted ten (10!?!?) pieces of writing about or featuring a body of water. i swear im not doing this on purpose it's just a recurring theme. just the other day i wrote a vignette about the ocean and before that i wrote a poem called face in the moon. how does this happen. i need to have my writing privileges revoked. like what ;-; i'm running out of pretty space and water backgrounds (p!nterest please help) i seriously gotta stop
