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CAN YOU FEEL IT?
feel what?
The tender aching of your own heart. I am aware of the tumor that blooms in your ventricles, like the flowers in spring.
Your breath is fading, your eyes are begging, your tongue is flipping, your arms are flailing, your head is throbbing, your lips are cracked and bleeding.
In that moment, your mind plays tricks (how cruel), you see all your desecrated maidens, all of their bodies lying gently next to yours. You see their hearts scintillating out of their bodies, and you hear faint susurrations bleeding out of their lips. You see their eyes, doe like and feeble, cerulean and emerald and hazel and cinnamon and anthracite, gazing at you in wonder and lust.
Your mouth opens, awaiting commands that never comes. And with a final breathe, they reach your body and pin you down, they roughly squeeze your gentle throat, which croaks in complaint. They were stripped of clothing and their dignity, a plethora of cathartic emotions all building up gradually.
You didn't think that they'd come for you, did you?
You were wrong, and in your final moments you see a small upward curve in the corner of their lips.
A smile.
Your eyes are burdened with darkness, and slowly, life seeps out of you.
Those were your maidens, were they not?
el fin.
♠
a/n: thank you all so much for reading! i wanted to make this an easy poetic work to read through & i hope you enjoyed it (:
