The End.

Do you remember that old postcard? God knows what disasters it will cause next time. And, trust in me, there will be a next time.

I'm the worst case of desperation. Even asylums laugh in our face as we change the course of action and run the other way. And this isn't a spark of idea. This is is the finished product. Sweetie, this is the outcome when the river poet runs dry on inspiration.

And I know what they say about me. I'm a spool of dry humor and thats all I'll ever be. Don't blame the seamstress, only blame the seed. Feelings are yesterday's news and cliche phrases decorate my lips. What's coming now? Realizing dreams of the sweet sunset taste?

Sugar, if I swore to you anything, it would be that this is the end for us all.

-Reianna Stancell