Splits

The darkest word of all. The most savage. Split jags the soul. Rips apart the palpable hope. Splits are the soundless deafening cry lurking somewhere below the surface. They are the shunned fears replaced for the most unlikely.

‘Tis the greatest fear overlooked. It’s partition by an apparition. It’s defeat rather than death. It’s meagre in that it’s born to be merciless. Appallingly brutal. Divergent in it’s unhallowing ways.

Splits abandon the spring, embracing the just as fierce as fall.