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Jan 2017
Crackle, crack, snap goes the sound of the paint as it flakes. Seams open little by little as the wall begin to break. I look at the stucco and I swear it is splitting into. Each line that appears separates into a dark fisher. I peer into the crack to see if I can find the bottom of the darkness. All that I find is that I get lost and drift a bit more out of sanity. If I stare long enough, the cracks become rifts in reality, cracks; cracks in the walls, why are they taunting me?
James M Vines
Written by
James M Vines  50/M/Atlanta Georgia
(50/M/Atlanta Georgia)   
612
 
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