screamingwhisperx

I hate you. I've always wanted to hate you, but never could. Until now. Hello beautiful; I hate you in more ways I could have ever imagined. You're lost to me. Done. Gone. I hate you. The end.

An artist, ardent of his profession, looked deep into my mind. He was enigmatic of my stance; the sound of his voice reverberated along my spine, echoing in my ears. He was questionable; he wanted to know the reflection portrayed in the clear water. I looked and saw - this image wasn't of beauty; or of wonder. It was a simple stroke. Nothing worth, but something shown. His voice then shook my body vigorously as I stared in the eyes of the stranger. In the eyes I saw lonliness, sorrow, and weep. They were cold, blank - like a starless winter sky, compared to the colours in the north. I couldn't look away. I transfixed my composure on understan