The wanderlust purple eyes.

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With unblinking eyes she had been glaring out of that window for days now. She wanted to venture out, on long journey’s, but all she could do was hope. Ever since she had touched that crippled old woman, who promised her death in the pit of her pulsating blood. Her secrets had been timelessly slipping from her unwashed body, and trying to find a point in which it could relax watching, and listening to her from a distant place. Forbidding her soul from leaving the spot where she endlessly grasped a sight around her of life growing, and croaking, another after another. Once, a man had looked up to see the beautiful women who’s body was resting, but who’s eyes had been watching. He had regretted his inability to steal her away, for he wanted this more than anything. He had read a story of sadness, behind weeping ocean tides, that cried such great horrors. Now there was baggage to be carried to a purple lake of demons, and the end of the lake was known to disappear just one year later. And when that lake had vanished in the air, when it had turned skinny, the eyes of the woman had gone too Though her spirit remained floating throughout the desecrated flesh that she had once worn on her bones, she continued to watch the life beyond her window And though he has wished for nothing but, the man never did swim in those captivating purple eyes again.





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