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The thing about seeing reflections is that they appear as ghosts. From the corner of the eye. Then the imagination reins free, to the detriment of the mind.

Said reflections are more than visual. They drag the past as it scurry’s to make sense of the seen stuff whilst the mind hurries to make into words what just happened.

This confluence of images and words are a juxtaposition that want to direct into a darkness that never accomplishes its full eternity.

It eats up the soul in unnecessary unwant

Is this not hell and if it aint

does hell mean doublemore than this?

I often dream of the eternal fire.

I fear the demon I confess. More than Jesus itself.

Curious is the new religion