Hilda Hilst

neon gravestones try to call for my blood

Let me see you.

Find you in the midst of chaos that torments your eyes.

Let me find out what makes you full of wonder.

Just... let me in.

She wanted the smell of leaves in the air, the taste of salty water, the inner peace that you can only find in that place, her home. All the little pleasures that she considered hers to feel.

Surprisingly, those could also be found on the girl next to her. That unknown territory began to feel like home even though she was so far from it- all thanks to her. It's amazing how some carry heaven in them without even realizing it.

I'm drowning in your scent.

Liars are those that say magic is nonexistent, for how else would anyone explain why I feel so attached to something -or rather someone- I can't even see?

Though I know it's all nothing more than illusions, I wouldn't dare losing that memory of you.

Paris, Texas

The Shape was not available for comment as I could find no one willing to speak to it…or even meet my eye when I mentioned it. It has occurred to me that I may be the only one able to see it. Now that I think about it, I have also never bothered to actually check whether this mic is attached to any sort of recording or broadcasting device. And it is possible that I am alone in an empty universe, speaking to no one, unaware that the world is held aloft merely by my delusions and my smooth, sonorous voice. More on this story as it develops, I say, possibly only to myself.

...

And now a continuation of our previous investigation into whether I am literally the only person in the world, speaking to myself in a fit of madness caused by my inability to admit the tragedy of my own existence.

shaking hands with the dark parts of my thoughts