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A bit of writing I did a while ago. It was going to open a horror novel, but the plot I came up with was too dark for me to write.
Alt continued:
I look for the forest in your eyes. I see myself reflected there, under the shadows of your lashes, like bars of a cage. You murmur of love, of the kindness you will show as you take care of me.
Alt continued: They are made from folded paper. I open one, numbers dance across it, synchronized, flowing along the outline of trees that fall and crumble into more paper. They dance in patterns that comfort me, and still I shiver.
I shiver as you whisper words of agreement and understanding, words that fall shiny from your lips, words that shatter as they tumble, crackling like thin ice, sparkling like diamond dust.