Sweet NothingsThe Queen, in exile, of Hell settles against the door that leads from her penthouse to the rooftop. She stares at the star-spangled icy sky for a few long moments, her shoulders flexing slightly. Then she sighs and fold her hands in her lap focusing her eyes not on the stars but on the blackness between them and inside her own soul. Ereshkigal carries the primal abyss with her, she's lived her life cloaked in it's chill mist- as close to her skin as a lover and as distant as those wintry stars.
As she begins her meditations, the abyss reveals its self subtly at first like smoke wreathing off incense, faint shifts in the fabric of her sensible black jean skirt and black sweater. She remains oblivious- focused inward now- standing in the clear snowfield that is her waking mind. As she looks at the constellations of her own memories her dress shifts into something more elemental, a shifting rustling mist that echoes with distant screeched and howls.
Ereshkigal opens her eyes and lifts a h
UntitledI like to take walks in the middle of the night to the graveyard a couple miles away from my place. I miss the quiet from when I lived in the country. It's never quiet here in town especially this close to the schools and downtown. There's always some drunk kids or homeless guys hanging out. Always something, but I just shove my hands deeper in my pockets, clutch my mace and keep going. I know I'd be in alot of trouble if anyone knew I was making these walks but I can't seem to help myself. The graveyard is so quiet at night and I love the feeling of being the only living person in such a large area. That's a little creepy now that I think about it- but still true.
So I'll walk through the mist that gathers there feeling it on my skin like the touch dead fingers. I used to be scared of it before I started taking these walks but now I can almost see the spirits dancing along with the music playing on my headphones. The idea makes me smile more than a little. I'll walk from grave to grav