I want to change my punctuation. I long for exclamation marks, but I'm drowning in ellipses.

How do I appear unthreatening when her lover's blood is running down my chin?

When the entire world is built on death and horror, when existence is a constant state of panic, it's hard to get worked up about any one thing. Specific fears have become irrelevant. We've replace them with a smothering blanket far worse.

Soft flesh is eaten by hard teeth.

Are my words ever actually audible, or do they just echo in my head while people stare at me, waiting?

I don't want to hear music, I don't want the sunrise to be pink. The world is a liar. Its ugliness is overwhelming; the scraps of beauty make it worse.

She is Living and I'm Dead, but I'd like to believe we're both human. Call me an idealist.