Intricacy is key

Key

That’s my name

Or

At least that’s what I think it could be

But the problem with intricacy

Is that it isn’t always the strongest

Even though those humans say spider webs are nature’s steel

My web

While beautiful

Is not

It bends and folds, and blows

Blows, Folds, Bends

But at least whenever they walk through my web

It sticks

Because

Intricacy is Key

I ate a piece of pizza

it wasn't very good

I ate a pie

and it was frickin fantastic

it was apricot

in case you were wondering

it was a ham and bell pepper pizza

and it was gluten free

the pie was not

Although I love you

I don’t know what to do

Cause no one is around to hold me

And no one is around for me to hold

And my dreams have someone in them

Who coulda been you but it’s not

no one told me that dreams aren’t real

Cause up to that point it had all felt like a dream

It's like

they call us the melting pot

but it seems like after we dump out the pot

and all the ingredients are mixed up

we just seperate to how it was before it went in the pot

on the cutting board

all isolated

all different

and the only time we really are a melting pot

is when we boil

i guess

when we flow over the top

and end up all over the floor

when we start jumping and screaming so much that maybe the chef might hear

and you know what

the chef is actually us

I mean, can you believe that

We are the ingredients

but we are also the chef

cause we gotta put it all together

I guess

Well that sucked.

I prolly shoulda been watchin my step.

or else I wouldn't have fallen.

Into that rabbit hole

Someone pointed out to me

about a mile back

That

Sucked.

a lot

It’s a rainy day in New York

Quite the same as yesterday

it seems to me as though

everyday just feels the same

It might- be- the way, you look, in the rain

Yeah

It might-be-the way, the rain falls down your cheek

Like a tear that drifted away from home

Everyday

Feels quite the same way

As long as your here

I could care less what they say

that the weather might not change

and that might be nice

it might be nice

nothin changes here

cause

The way you look in the rain doesn’t change by the day

Your as beautiful as yesterday and its,

something

I’ll pull you close to me

With the umbrella over our heads

I’ll let you know you haven’t changed

much like the rain

in New York

on any- given- day-

It was midnight, I knew this because I saw a clock in the corner of my eye, slowly ticking, second by second, and then it hit the 12. The twelve didn’t look like a normal twelve, it was almost as if the twelve had been flipped into 21, and back again, then turned upside down, and rotated through space leaving something like a mix between roman numerals and standard notation.

The moon was out, I could see slivers of the light through the panels in the curtains, as they would move because of the vents underneath, the moon would come into view, allowing me for a brief second to see something I knew.

I walked around the room, it was only lit by the slivers of light from the moon, and a small lamp in the corner. It was the size of a teapot, and shaped like a balloon. It was green or some shade of it at least. I couldn’t tell if it was or not because I couldn’t see very well as it was. The room was circular, which didn’t make very much sense. You can’t escape a circle, it’s endless, always repeating itself. Why couldn’t it be a square, or a rectangle? You can open those just as you do a door. A circle scared me.

This is a small piece from a story I've been working on. I've just been trying to really capture a world, I don't know if this shows that but I hope it piques your interest.

Sinatra floated in the air, pausing only when the vinyl needed to be flipped. Her arms wrapped around me, and mine around her. The only light was the moon shining through the windows, as it was soon to slip away, and the sun was to come up.

This is the working title btw.