i bear my teeth like a crown gleaming with blood.
i wove a web of desperation in order to catch someone's attention.
i wear the mask on my forehead, shielding my eyes; call me FOUR FANGS. four eyes will get you killed.
i sleep in my tears, even as i flip the pillow over. then, the pillow got tired of tasting like salt that it left me drowning in the ocean, clinging to the case i scarred.
the light of the dream fades, leaving its shadow. no hope as you choke on the dust you shed, just recycled dust when you breathe again and again. i didn't want to die i just wanted to return to a time of dreaming with my eyes open and a gold sheen of mist caressing its frayed edges but the mist has cleared leaving me teared up torn between the string on my finger and the reality in my lungs. my youth is shrouded with a white curtain. everything was alive back then, everything tied together. but today they die today they return to the dust gathered in the corner of my memory piled beside the curtain that drapes over the light of memories, dulling it until it fades away to nothing more than a pulse because the ribbons were cut when i grew up because growing up is realizing you aren't bright anymore you aren't naive and free because when you're asked to dream you give the answer in the best light but forget that every dream casts a shadow no one can explain, but regret.
she got impaled on a branch. she did it to herself.
she slid down the wood, left her head shaking in the foliage.
her limbs tangled with the roots peeking from the ground.
if you were a nice enough kid, but a little short, she'd help you reach the fruit.
only if no one else was around. no harm, no foul.
i swelled my knuckles last night. it might've been a mistake. they couldn't hear the blossoming pain from each sharp pound into the wooden frame of my bed as i imagine the walls shaking the pictures in their frames with each blow landed. will i regret it? i found a new painkiller. my throbbing knuckles pull my mind from my thoughts to settle on the pulse in my bones.
he inhales the gunpowder dusted along the cartridge before he loads them; his eyes spark and swirl as if he's high off death.
i wish to silence the daylight, said the shadow creature. the moonlight is too little for me. the sun needs to be struck down so i can sleep peacefully, unless you can stand the screeching and grinding of my teeth as i squint against the tear-jerking light. you burn me.
spatial disorientation, wynncrest, trotter, reigate/reiqate
forget your CHILDHOOD! they guided you away from your dust, sprinkling a path to a new pile. the stuffed animals adhere to your dreams. they contort as you whisper.
angels x humans = giants to be killed with a flood. angels cried the ocean while demons walked the earth.
silence plays in the corner
they deny everything... so i'll deny them
who's to say they have a hand in anything? all i know is... they have their eyes on you~!!
weapons of man don't draw blood from our kind [probably from The Golem or some shit]
all the petty words of your primal language will never desecrate a being like me. any insult you think of will fall on silent ears and a swollen smile. go ahead, scream to your heart's content. i'll be waiting to silence the beating of it, the blood annoys me so.
what if the sharpness that stings your skin started bleeding instead? what if the blade stained with its own monochromatic blood? what if the words from the corpse to the victim dripped with blood in midair? will they both realize that the words hurt when said aloud? will the shell of a person realize it will only hurt before it heals?