Epilogue #1He churned in his seat, uneasy at the weight of the avoided subject. Dozens of eyes melted together, each accuser staring, emotionless. Pupils dilated and teeth hid. Fog filled his already blurry mind. The darkness grew around him, and the air thinned. His breath echoed and deepened with every exhale, until he heard nothing but ringing.Epilogue #1 by Artemis-F-Fox
I fell through air, and they still stood there
Captains of captions, telling you what is your subconscious
and underlying thoughts
Emotions, and I can’t hold them in
There are few that try to
and no one that does understand
So they trapped me, scared of the unknown
"I'm Jeremiah. 17, well, nearly." He spoke sternly and didn't move his eyes off her face. "I'm being sent here for my anger..."
“You don’t have to state those things, Jeremy. That is what you'd like to be called, right?” She tilted her head and smiled at his assurance. “I’m here to help you, not judge or penalize you-and I’ll get to know
The Pipes...and they rested all day, "swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh..." and they worked all night, "click, clank, click, clank." They toiled and slaved under the moon, moving ever so slightly as to make sure that no one spotted them glistening in the blurred light. There were 13 hundred of them, all helping each other, but caring not for each other's fate. For when you live in such a crowded anti-sanctuary, in filth and decay, you began to feel desolate and separate from each other, and just desperate to break out. And since they put forth all their remaining energy and strength, theyThe Pipes by Artemis-F-Fox
They dribbled out of the metal cage, first only a couple then many, then the rest. Almost
Until they landed on a harsh cold floor. With metal shaped to fit their bodies. They fell through, sliding, clinging desperately to the sides...
EwMy skin.Ew by YellowTori
Blood vessels all red.
It makes it look like I've got a rash.
This skin contains things inside.
It stops my moods from soaking out.
I try to scratch through it.
Tear it and let a feeling be free.
But this skin is ugly.
Healed scars of purple and white.
Silly scratches that do nothing.
All I want is to see it marked.
Dirty and broken.
Dead and ill.
Because maybe if I looked as ill as I felt.
Maybe if I looked dead.
|Wonderful, wonderful things.|