Billions Of Stars And Words Collide

what’s buried in her graveyard mind — absurd assumptions. an abandoned abode; arose an arrow-like alphabet, adding anguish after another. awful anxiety amidst anger, asphyxiate as agile as archers. aren’t accurate, abysmally acuate. and all antagonistic approval; ah, antithetical. you wouldn’t have wished to set your heart on throwing yourself into her vast but crowded universe, containing phrases that are the opposite of good. you wouldn’t desire to destroy your poor soul by just being solicitous as you are — your affection wouldn’t be enough. ain’t ample for her to wholeheartedly give credence that just her existence could be the reason for a man’s contentment. it was always the little voices corrupting her whole being. always the wickedness in her that find comfort from the fire and brimstone. you could try, but don’t let yourself be drowned in her own depiction of hell. don't even try. madness | maribeth bantog Disclaimers: This writer’s works are all fiction. Unless stated otherwise, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents in this piece are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is purely coincidental.