Madness | A 100 Word Story

#697 | VI The Lovers - Annabel Lee | Edgar Allan Poe Tarot

When she held my hand, day turned to night. The sun became the moon. My heart was cold as ice. She took my breath away and never gave it back. Suffocated by her beauty, I was obsessed.

Bright lights sickened me. The sun burned my skin. I only came out for the moon. I would cut out my heart but she took it with her when she left.

I search for her still, in the corners of the night sky. I know she will come find me soon. And rescue me from this madness I am trapped in, with myself.

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