The cottage cheese ceiling caresses my imagination. Visions for me change nightly. Movement of mountains to heights that melt avalanches to drown me under the weight of black sheets and I cannot breathe. The clown pours a water bucket on top. The ice forms a frozen daiquiri and my toes curl up at the bottom of my bed. My slippers drink slush under duress. You call this insomnia. I call this my life in the fast lane where morning never comes to waken my memory filled moments of long ago when my black cat named panther was the only beast knew. Keep writing imaginary words of wonder. No stopping at Halloween.
Aww! ❤️
I particularly like 'claws like museum vases' and 'breathing like yoga people I wish I could be'. Lovely writing.
Thank you 🙏
This is great - reminds me of that horror movie, Mother.
Ooo I liked that movie! Thanks!
The cottage cheese ceiling caresses my imagination. Visions for me change nightly. Movement of mountains to heights that melt avalanches to drown me under the weight of black sheets and I cannot breathe. The clown pours a water bucket on top. The ice forms a frozen daiquiri and my toes curl up at the bottom of my bed. My slippers drink slush under duress. You call this insomnia. I call this my life in the fast lane where morning never comes to waken my memory filled moments of long ago when my black cat named panther was the only beast knew. Keep writing imaginary words of wonder. No stopping at Halloween.
I love this! Great riff🖤 I’ve been writing since I was eight, don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.
Hope you look at micro dose “Grimoire tales”
Aw, the ending is sweet. Interesting images though, the dog with the mohawk for example!
Ha! Thanks!