*facepalm* So I sit down to work on editing my novel. (NaNoEdMo, people!) And instead this happens.

( random free verse is random )

poem: >>too late for wordsher fingers fly across the keyboard ( Read more... )

This is a... something. I'm not sure what it is, but it's dark and it deals with death.

It's all over now.
Red on white, blood on the snow.
I'm bleeding out so
we can say goodbye again.
Crimson hearts and paper roses
don't mean anything anymore, not in this place,
not when I can feel life draining out
a frozen stain as I fall away.
A thousand words ( Read more... )