malaciae

I can still feel the blood running.  Flowing freely down my arms in trickles…then streams…then rivers.  A horrid rushing sound in my ears.  I hear chirping…the blissful whistling of finches and oreoles.  Gone, all alone…. I miss them. I miss him. I miss me. Just for a taste of that rich, moist, cheesiness, I was willing to trade in my grasp on this fragile reality.  And now it is shattered.  A false mirror that once showed untruths, lays upon the ground in pieces.  I’m free. It began with a craving, a desire for release from the formless, bland flavor of every meal.  There must be something better than this, I thought.  There m