u/Emeraldspirit9

The kitchen was glass and it let out more than it kept in.

I have no more words to tell my mind, persuade it to pause. Pause is to dire of a word for such a direct cry. I have to stop mourning the ledger of an epitome itself that had never any plans to be written.

Where maybe you aren't listening to the end I was promised someone had been there at the beginning. The same anger that promised the words would stop spilling as soon as those vines stopped bleeding.

Lesser than sutures, open bellows faced rampart whispers, and welcoming words instead spilled out of eyes.

For pleas had no place in the kitchen, when the glass had only ever been one sided.