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"She was soft, too soft. A soft touch. Her hair was soft, her smile was soft, her voice was soft. She was so soft there was no resistance. Hard things sank into her, they went right through her, and if she made a real effort, out the other side. Then she didn’t have to see them or hear them, or even touch them.”


January 26th
104 notes
11:01 pm

moving on slow currents by Maria Sardari

Filed as: tendrils   damp   hair   mud   swamp   skin  

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    Psalm 40:2 {He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and...
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s.t.