is old & strange. it hints

of future ruin, peculiars

on nearly every corner lean

their steeples recogizing

my own.

this city is dying, & the ghosts

are unseen, but

their susurrations remind me

to keep breathing, to keep

breathing, to keep

September feels like a twinge, a whisper in the wind.

Like a kiss stolen from a frown, and laced with a grin.

it’s been a week since i’ve cleaned my halo

and my vision is blurred like an oil slick.

I’m so grateful that I haven’t seen an angel,

for my wings are rusty with sin..

Loneliness is cruelty,

when love is only a susurration in the wind.

a memory and essence on the skin

Voices from the heavens, echoing how my heart longs to be condemned.

-and I think God mocks me for the way i’ve locked myself in

Iron on my tongue- my wings wilt,

while reaching for the sun..

and the autumn leaves fall, like feathers

one

by

one

// Ophydia

seeking new susurrations

feeling too lonely

to believe in empty sounds

are we, can we be alone?

.

Had to close my windows shut to keep some of the cold out. The light susurrations of spring rain creates the music we all resonate with; harmony and fragility.

I love my disaster children!!

susurrations replied to your post: xtreme whining about videogames[[MOR] watching...

Ya I watched my partner play the first half hour of it because he thought I would like it and I was not impressed whatsoever lol

dude so i lOOOOVE post apocalyptic bullshit and i LOVE robot bullshit but i am like kind of eeeeh on ‘tribe’ (???) stuff esp it’s mostly white people? and they’re called primitive? like uuuuh so uncomfortable... it looks super fun and s. is having fun playing it but the writing is IRR I TATE ING