Ghosted Margins: A First Look

Stood there. In front of the vanity…Phantasmic and ethereal in their grandeur. Hovering. No feet on the ground. A porcelain bone, holding another. Their translucent bodies holding their blues, their sorrow. A sorrowful scene. 

Two quills, for two wills. It was always the two of  them. A dynamic duo. Painted with a depressions hue. A Hatred for the water that suffocated them. Yet they will flourish in the fire. They have manuscripts and anthologies replicated. A way to process and aspire, for a life they could not achieve. Discarded by society, for it dug them two graves inhabited too soon, riddled with anxiety, the other fuelled with prose and waves.

Hanging in a thick air of poised depression