noir
i had to choose. and it was not an easy choice, believe me. and i am sorry that my choice meant, ultimately, your death. but, you see, i simply could not have you crawling up my legs, in my keyboard, around the coils of the phone cord. i was distracted. i was uncomfortable. i felt you all over my skin. you’re a little bit creepy. still, i’m sorry i killed your family.
no comment
fall, leaves, fall
fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;
lengthen night and shorten day;
every leaf speaks bliss to me
fluttering from the autumn tree.
i shall smile when wreaths of snow
blossom where the rose should grow;
i shall sing when night’s decay
ushers in a drearier day.
-emily jane bronte