Written as part of a challenge
I twist in a wicked wind. I list to the left. My feelings dragging my feet. My mind sharp as a peeble. Thoughts tumble down against harder stones. Rolling is the only path once started. I had an excuse at the top of the hill.
Once bottom hit back, these things matter little. The alien landscape of surrender. There are no peaks. Valleys surround me. Distant Sunsets cast shadows aflame with desires. I reflect but show noone facing my way.
A map of my world is a ink spot. Rorschach tests are my vision. You are fitted with black wings above. Daggers? Or are those teeth? Claws…must be claws. Searching for the flesh of my back.