Happy Birthday kixxa! I hope you have a wonderful year to match just how sweet you are. *hug*
If you don't mind it, here's a piece of something I've been working on this evening for you.
There is no daylight here, only perpetual night that has me hanging by my fingertips.
Hoping for a sign.
A sign that my field of dreams isn’t a hallucination driving me against the razor’s edge.
Needling me, picking away at a scab that just won’t heal.
A smile. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?
There's a scratching at my door. I don't want to let him in, but the sound is persistent. Unnerving and a little more than an irritation. It can't hurt to just open it a crack. Can it?
The crack widens, expands and envelops. Completely. Inside and out.
Tentacles reaching outward, and a star is gone.
Did it exist?
Was it only my imagination?
A rambling fairytale whispered in the middle of the night.
Make believe that became solid for a moment only to blister and shatter once I woke.
I'm sorry if it makes no sense at the moment, but it should when it's finished.