mental-health – The Bacchanalian

I think I might have died in that house.

A track plays in my mind, this horrid echo that screams back “LISTEN, damn you, and follow the details this time”. Waiting, whistling. Watching. The horrid mass curling, writhing, waiting for me to come back, return. We whittled the world down in the wee hours of the morning, the last rinsing traces whisking all thoseContinueContinue reading “I think I might have died in that house.”