Thursday, 1 May 2014
Icicles. Lots of them. Breaking off the ceiling and slicing through the snow. They make clean cut divots. I feel like laying on the snow underneath the diving icicles. Just to feel them pierce me and divide me into separate pieces. Compartmentalizing peace, sorrow, and heart break. Just so I can physically feel it, see what's being done inside of me. I just want relief.