Friday, June 8, 2012

Fearborn.

At last I've come to realize the error of my way...

Within the shape of torment and self pity, I threw myself into a well of despair, tightly ensnared within HIS slender fingers. I allowed myself to be played like a toy. Tearing a swath of terror in the wake of HIS footsteps. Leaving a sea of blood and tattered limbs behind me in an almost comical charade of purpose and self worth.

But you cannot best that which cannot be bested. Lest you find yourself gripping the fraying seams of your eviscerated organs. Drowning in the horror of HIS ever empty face.

But don't fret my little darlings. For I've found a rather elaborate loophole that I find to be quite..... intoxicating...

Stretching my fingers and bones til they crack. Slitting open this pasty chest and removing all that makes me mortal. Leaving not but skin and bone. I'm becoming quite frantic as I struggle with the lack of lungs and veins. A curved rusted hook a makeshift sewing needle. Stitching... stitching... stitching shut...

Remove my eyes and lips and tongue. Cleft the nose off with a knife. Feel me bleed until I'm dry. Then stuff me whole with thick black leaves.

Keep on stitching shut my face... or lack thereof... with a thick black twine that burns and clings. Feel a smirk fall flat and dead. And chuckle with a twisted glee. Stretching, stretching til bones scream. RElishing the inability to voice my pain.

I have thus become unmade. Adorning rags and scarecrow hat. Twisting and twining with each proud step. I spin around with arms outstretched as black pus pours through seams in streams. And I feel the leaves squirm inside of me.

Oh little children, boys and girls. Avert your eyes from your false fear, and lay them upon HE WHO JUST DESERVES IT!

3 comments:

  1. Stop bullshitting and burn, you say? Interesting....but stupid.

    You are, what, now? A scarecrow? A doll? An effigy of a monster? Please. Continue this...enlightening.

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  2. You seem rather too curious for your own good... much like a certain somebody that I used to know back when I still held an ounce of innocence...

    Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back...

    Heh... memories...

    Either way it seems painfully obvious that you and that rather adorable Zwei took too much of a blatant meaning from my words rather than peel back the layers and come to understand the message within.

    I can promise you now, I am unlike anything you have, or will ever have the displeasure of crossing.

    ...including that fucking slender man...

    Imagine me as whatever you wish. For I highly doubt your pitiful little mind could even comprehend what it is I have become.

    But I can assure you, I'm the farthest thing from a monster.

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    Replies
    1. On the contrary, I find people-- things, rather? such as yourself interesting because I know the meaning of looking too far into one's own self.

      Curiosity did in fact kill the Cat, but I like to believe I've still got four or five lives left in me to waste before I need to worry.

      if there were in fact layers to peel back, would you care to tell me-- what they were? No matter how hard I looked at your words, I saw no meaning. but maybe I'm just unfamiliar with you as a whole, dear-- tell me. What do you mean?

      I'll picture you as a scarecrow, then.

      you know-- that's a wonderful basis for a song. a scarecrow's ballad, once a man. Maybe if I warm up to you a little more, I'll write that once my piece for Amy is done.

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