Argument

I burn, you freeze. I scream, spewing flame. Your silence creeps slowly around the room, fingers of ice reaching out, slowly stroking frigid spider’s webs over everything they touch.
My eyes flash, yours are blank. My mouth curls into a devil’s snarl, fangs bared. Your lips are pressed together thinly, sewn with the white thread of quiet.
My red hands are claws. Small but perfectly hideous. I wreak destruction. Smash. Shatter. Kill.
You don’t use your hands. Long, thin, nails which would be suited to spearing my heart right out of my chest. But this doesn’t happen. You don’t fight me.
It feels like I’m stepping on glass. I cut my feet to shreds running over your spiked thoughts. I fling your own unsaid words back in your face. To no avail.
I’ll bury my shame in a box made from the bones of a dead man, placed in the ground by hideous weeping women. It burns in the flames of hellhounds. Eternal. Pitch. Black. Rest.
You, my antithesis, will quietly hide your frozen heart in an ornate box of silver and sapphire, bourne to the deepest recesses of your mind by wraith-like angels. A vault of unsaid words. Deadly silence.


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Argh, I've been SO busy! Missing much creative writing. But here's my latest offering. It was an exercise on opposites. I'm OD'ing on my fav thing, short sentences. Ah well, what can I say?!