in_passing raze i saw a feather fall in passing. a dagger digging into impure darkness. it dipped down to kiss the cool canvas beneath my feet. now that i need to know where it lies, my eyes can't find the bleached plume. maybe i dreamed it. what if waking_up is a lie we tell ourselves to temper the fear of toppling out of the only world that's ever been ours to shape as we see fit? it's always so hard to hold onto the things we don't want to lose. 231117 what's it to you? who go blather from