The Crow of Spirit and Longing_What it means to wear White Gloves_We'll Get There Eventually_I&#
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The Crow of Spirit and Longing
I force the laugh out of my lips, clinging to the hope of it changing everything. It sounds harsh. Cold. Simply wrong. But no. It has to be right. I don’t allow the thought of it being incorrect to reach my brain. Because if it reaches, it will never leave. Like lice amongst hair. I will have to comb through it and even www.onedoor.ccthen I may have to cut it all off. No, it's too dangerous. I can’t risk it.I can’tI unwillingly force my head up and out of the hollow of my neck. My eyes meet my own in the mirror. They pierce back at me, black, cold. I was careful to wipe away the trail of tears before looki...
What it means to wear White Gloves
"I'm sorry, he didn't make it."His tired, raspy voice reluctantly uttered the words no one wanted to speak or be heard spoken, nonetheless, they were still words he spoke many times, gaining much experience over the gradual course of time, developing much resistance, but never an immunity.I stood behind his back as he told her the words, his formerly blue dress riddled with scarlet marks of new blood and splotches of dried maroon blood covered the rest of it body, his white gloves standing quietly upon his hands, covering those trembling fingers while singing songs of burdening respect as he h...
We'll Get There Eventually
When you do something irreparable, it changes you. You push aside every little problem in your life to make room for the regret. Because it’s all you’ve got left. And it’s huge, it’s fucking huge, it invades every space and every crevice and every single thought. It’s inescapable. But, the thing is, you have to accept it. Because you deserve the regret. You deserve every single ounce of hatred you have for yourself. And that’s the worst of it. That’s how you know you’ve changed. Because there’s no possible way you could ever be the same again.So as I stood there, my hand clasping Josie’s, tea...
I'm sorry
This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives.But I ruined it.Yes. I was the cause, the reason, the problem, the black hole.The one who was responsible for my own terrible actions, it was me and only me.And I regretted it. So much.I don’t know how to forgive myself.God, please forgive me.Bring them back together again.I’m begging you.My father died when I was still a young, immature child. By then, I was already big enough to know and understand what was happening. No words needed.I pushed everyone away. I don’t need their sympathy. I don't need their tears.I just need my father back...