Dead things.

A “Draw This In Your Style” challenge from @luuneyosei .

The glare of this life has blinded me to its perils.

What does it mean to be the person you once thought you could be?

Nothing is as it appears.

Everyday, you seem to be the thing I'm thinking of.

But what I'd do for you, I just can't say.

Considering the kind of games you play

You say you'll do one thing and then the next minute you are gone.

So long, I'm moving on and I'm alone again.

Oh, someday I hope to see your face around again.

Come and play is what you used to say to me, my friend.

Every time you finally pull me out, your little hide and seek just makes me shout.

I barely got to twenty one and you were gone...

...And I'm alone again.

Ukraine ‘33.

I held my breath...

...waiting for it to pass by. Perhaps if I sat still long enough it would lose interest, and go back to where it came from or was going to. The flapping of its wings, and shrieks roared in my ears. My eyes were squeezed shut and I said a silent prayer to myself that it and maybe this whole damned forest would disappear.

Silence met my ears, could it be gone?

My was dagger clenched uselessly in my hand, as I crept up from my position among the rocks and brush. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light. I could feel something different in the air, there was a stench, like rotted meat. There it sat.

Completely silent, completely still. Its eyes fixed on me, a look of curiosity mingled with disgust on its face. Almost as if it was thinking “what is this thing doing in my woods.” Her leathery wings poised to once again take flight.

After what seems liked an eternity of our eyes locked together I slowly started to back away. It twitched it’s head in alarm, and crouched down in what looked like an attack position.

That undeniable feeling of loss for something you never held.

That feeling of something you never felt.