no longer writing in the third person

It Will Get Lighter



Picture

with this post net clarity and the hours of nothing that followed I realise this is going to be awful.


Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.

13, H, grate

Ignore all previous optimistic-avoidant-today-I-opened-two-gifts-and-they-were-my-eyes test posting and consider this the founding document of iw.gl

It's

dusk

in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox.
It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache.
I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.

Style

The bird dives back into the tree. It shakes, some leaves fall.

I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.

in a post. I want to be remembered