I lie listening to the gentle footsteps above my head. I reach my arm out as far as I can but my hands fall short of the ceiling. In defeat, I turn my body and continue to work on my letter — my letter.
Every intricate detail, displaying a different way of destroying the lives of those who step above me. It details the knives in my back and the daggers in my eyes. It describes the blood rushing over my torso like the rain on a tin roof. It speaks of the horrors that go on in my day to day, while everyone else screams of nothing.
The angel lying next to me doesn’t know what I have planned, but they will better from my explosive finally. They will finally get their wings.
Still, I wonder; is this all just an irrational expression of inner demons? Should I seek help or guidance? Or, should I just keep them to myself and have this fire inside destroy all that I am and create a shell of a human to distraught with their own perception of life to shed the simplest emotion.
The timer ticks and I wither away into insanity.
Gone are the days of innocence. Gone are the days of bliss. If ignorance is stupidity then may I wear the dunce cap and parade around recklessly.
Heed my call and run!
Run far to the east where you might escape this torment that plagues me! I see it consume a different individual everyday.
Many of them accept their call before they explode, throwing limbs in every direction. Those who accept don’t bother anyone else due to their own containment in depravity. Those who fight back cause commotion and get taken down quickly. Though noticed, they fade. Oh they fade into such obscurity that we create stories detailing a life that never happened! We create monsters out of them when all they wanted was to hold someone’s hand.
Even art is no longer expression but has become the wretch itself. It is spawned from minds that know no creativity or sound. They come from a place fueled by desperation to conform to a world that was created to conform to a world.
We base everything on the notion that we have something physical to hold when there is nothing. Built on a dream we crumble to despair, but despair not! For we can overcome this regime! Take up the sword and shoot your way through the barricades and children. They created their fate when the world was geared to them by others. They shall be the first to be extinguished.
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