bLack & wHite

I accept darkness and walk through the shadows. Old stone adorned with painted glass. Freeze the frame as time has passed. alas ... When memories linger it makes the days gloomy and grey. A thick haze of rain is torturing my head. A cold sweat collects and falls down my spine. The colors blend, I gather my thoughts. as the process begins ... I thread the string to perform the stitch. The blood clots in unison with the second hand tic. The grey seeps into my supposed safe place.