Tristan Howard

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The White Oblivion

The first time I stepped into the white oblivion,
it was the sea that cast the foam and the wind in my face;
it was the sallow water that drained me, and left me blue.
The blue from my cheeks bled through my lips as my fingertips turned noir.
The white oblivion was sheer and obscure.
The white silence left no noise; it left no melody for my ears to track. The water blackened my eyelids and drew me down farther.
I sank so deep.
The sea swallowed my corpse; it devoured me whole.
When I sank so deep that i lingered under the waves and touched the bottom,
a light ripped through my corneas.

That was first time I stepped into the white oblivion.

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