Shut Up
Like a plague fed to the brain, deadly disease
Though it may seem just a joke of my perverted immagination, I can almost hear the sizzle of the epidermis as those eyeless holes in which no human eye ever rested watch me furiously.
That boiling anger, though it inflicts no real damage, stuns me physically.
"I told you to watch him", the reaper hisses, revealing those canines that glisten with rotting blood.
My head bows even lower, almost to a position that would damage the vertebrae in my spine if those transparent bones had not been rendered elastic by some 'reward' for babysitting another poor bastard.
"I told you not to let him near that window", the holes turn to lava and the skin continues to burn audibly.
"I didn't purposely lead him there. He wanted to see", I protest, but my desire to save my skin of future unaesthetic burns withers to small pieces as those ruthless eyes turn to watch me again.
"Of course he wanted to see", it hisses, aproaching my body with haste, almost as if its desire to dismember me pushes its bones to move faster."Of course he wants to leave. His whole existence was led by his desire to leave. He never wanted to remain. Your brain might be uncapable of understanding simple instructions, but understand him, at least"
What is it to understand? I was resentful,too, when I first stepped on this tedious piece of land, wherever it may be placed, up or down. I, too, wanted to leave. But I stayed. If these boys want to deal with whatever lies down there in hunger, it's their problem, not mine...
And then those holes turn black and it's black, burnt lips connect into a single, thin line.
"Are you certain it is not your problem?"
*********
A scream claws its way out of my throat, lingers painfully on the tip of my tongue, presumably held back by some demand of my tired brain, then dashes through my teeth viciously.
And the scream prolongs its existence, resistant,resolute.
And my arms raise to place themselves on my neck, but the pain continues.
There is no roundabout way from this path that I've deliberately chosen to walk on.
Grown nails begin dragging themselves across sensible skin, leaving marks of a madman behind.
Eyes begin to rotate around maniacally, almost as if searching a safe spot to rest on. But there is nothing safe here, nothing that doesn't burn or freeze.
Muscles begin to convulse rhythmically, on some maddening drum beats that no human can reproduce. And I hear them. And I know that Gray can't hear them. That he will never be able to hear them...
And my bones shatter and I fall, prey to those tiny soul that hunger for my cries, those that lie at my feet patiently...
And I remember everything, every single deed that I did without shame, every single sin that I couldn't abstain from doing.
And I remember Emma...
And I remember Uri...
And I remember Valerie...
And I remember Gray...
And I don't want to remember.....
That boiling anger, though it inflicts no real damage, stuns me physically.
"I told you to watch him", the reaper hisses, revealing those canines that glisten with rotting blood.
My head bows even lower, almost to a position that would damage the vertebrae in my spine if those transparent bones had not been rendered elastic by some 'reward' for babysitting another poor bastard.
"I told you not to let him near that window", the holes turn to lava and the skin continues to burn audibly.
"I didn't purposely lead him there. He wanted to see", I protest, but my desire to save my skin of future unaesthetic burns withers to small pieces as those ruthless eyes turn to watch me again.
"Of course he wanted to see", it hisses, aproaching my body with haste, almost as if its desire to dismember me pushes its bones to move faster."Of course he wants to leave. His whole existence was led by his desire to leave. He never wanted to remain. Your brain might be uncapable of understanding simple instructions, but understand him, at least"
What is it to understand? I was resentful,too, when I first stepped on this tedious piece of land, wherever it may be placed, up or down. I, too, wanted to leave. But I stayed. If these boys want to deal with whatever lies down there in hunger, it's their problem, not mine...
And then those holes turn black and it's black, burnt lips connect into a single, thin line.
"Are you certain it is not your problem?"
*********
A scream claws its way out of my throat, lingers painfully on the tip of my tongue, presumably held back by some demand of my tired brain, then dashes through my teeth viciously.
And the scream prolongs its existence, resistant,resolute.
And my arms raise to place themselves on my neck, but the pain continues.
There is no roundabout way from this path that I've deliberately chosen to walk on.
Grown nails begin dragging themselves across sensible skin, leaving marks of a madman behind.
Eyes begin to rotate around maniacally, almost as if searching a safe spot to rest on. But there is nothing safe here, nothing that doesn't burn or freeze.
Muscles begin to convulse rhythmically, on some maddening drum beats that no human can reproduce. And I hear them. And I know that Gray can't hear them. That he will never be able to hear them...
And my bones shatter and I fall, prey to those tiny soul that hunger for my cries, those that lie at my feet patiently...
And I remember everything, every single deed that I did without shame, every single sin that I couldn't abstain from doing.
And I remember Emma...
And I remember Uri...
And I remember Valerie...
And I remember Gray...
And I don't want to remember.....