Maybe One Day Her Bones Stacked In The Corner Will Feel The Warmth Of A Soul Alight. Maybe One Day Shell

maybe one day her bones stacked in the corner will feel the warmth of a soul alight. maybe one day she’ll finally breathe without cracked collarbones. maybe one day she’ll know the little death and stop visiting her grave. maybe then she’ll have a home that echos of giggles and glows with morning light. maybe then church won’t be so far.

home is the first grave // until i gather the strenth to drag my bones out the front door my soul will haunt these shadowed halls. the kitchen echos of angrily washed dishes and silent mornings, the living room reverberates arguments past and loud screams. the room is filled with quiet sobs and repeated whispers, just once more then you’ll be done, just hold on once more. but it’s once more in the same way that soon will never be here and then is never now.

"Imagination, of course, can open any door—turn the key and let terror walk right in."

In Cold Blood (p. 88) by Truman Capote

i, personally, love to straddle that fine line between “fandom blog” and “record of complete psychological breakdown”

acd sherlock and john were chaotic good and i love them very dearly.

in a situationship with God.

okay. im not letting my brain go into panic mode. im going to eat, take a shower, and nap.

then i’m going to make a list of pros and cons; implications; estimated timeframe; financial impact; other related and not related factors that will be impacted.

then i’m going to make a plan.

then i’m going to sleep on it.

come friday next week, if i still want this (and given the plan has had updates as more things have been considered) then im going to go for it. worst case: i lose some family, but i gain my life wholly so. and selfishly i want that so bad.