08-04-2015, 03:07 PM
it's like i can't stop what i'm hearing within,
it's like the face inside is right beneath my skin.
it's like the face inside is right beneath my skin.
They come to me like vultures, wanting to pick at white bone and peach flesh. Desiring oh so much to pick at the fruitful organs, so ripe and red. My mind twists and turns, old and worn chains rattling as I feel Crow moving, his grasp on me tighten, around my throat, around my lungs. He grips them with an iron hold and I feel the breath ebbing away from me. As the golden mare emerges from the darkness, like a gleam of sun, I feel Crow's appetite growl, his teeth slathering with want, with need.
She is made of substance, of flesh and bone, not sticks and leaves, like you, my dear, dear little Aoki.
His words bite into me, and my shivering frame flops and stumbles. Weak, so very weak. I hold my breath, his control of my lungs a burden that slides right down to the marrow of my bones. Cold, ice, embedding itself into me. I watch as she observes me, like one would observe a piece of meat they have no intention of buying. They poke, they prod, and complain it is too fatty. Or in my case, far too bony, not enough meat. I feel myself slipping, green eyes dull, like autumn grass.
More arrive. A filly. Her words, they cut me. I then want nothing more than to feel the warmth of my own children -- Crow had taken them away from me too. Their warmth, their love. He had replaced it with eh cold, iron prison. I shiver some more, dropping down to my knees. The worn ground bearing down, deep into my bones, my weary muscles. 'Aoki eats, she lives. She doesn't want to live, so Aoki does not eat.' green eyes meet the curious young filly, eyeing up her mother, who seems to have a cavernous mind, a dreary eye. I cannot help but think perhaps, perhaps Crow had his clutches of her too.
I feel another set of eyes, an array of feathers. The whites of my eyes widen, lighten at the sight of them. Oh, he's here. He's all around. I whip my head back to Gryffen. He had promised, promised me he could get rid of him, get rid of Crow. And yet he has brought me right into his lair, right where he can come out. The rusted chains shift, suddenly whipping past and I feel the coldness grip my skull, unseen hands wringing around my neck, silencing my need to shout, to scream. For him, for my pink knight (wherever he is.) and now, the pallid wolf, his red eyes, I meet with mine and I want to scream at him, cry out, and yet the sound comes out a garbled choked mess. 'You promised Aoki. Promised her Crow would leave. Crow is here. Crow is here.' I tremble, as though a leaf on a winter branch, the wind unrelenting in plucking me from my pedestal. Oh, but Gryffen is the wind and I, I am a lowly leaf, clinging to a breaking twig. I draw my eyes up to Straia, to Gryffen, to all of the vultures come to pick at my bones.
'Aoki will do anything, anything.' I plead, my voice near breaking, cracking like glass ice. 'Please, please get rid of Crow.'
She is made of substance, of flesh and bone, not sticks and leaves, like you, my dear, dear little Aoki.
His words bite into me, and my shivering frame flops and stumbles. Weak, so very weak. I hold my breath, his control of my lungs a burden that slides right down to the marrow of my bones. Cold, ice, embedding itself into me. I watch as she observes me, like one would observe a piece of meat they have no intention of buying. They poke, they prod, and complain it is too fatty. Or in my case, far too bony, not enough meat. I feel myself slipping, green eyes dull, like autumn grass.
More arrive. A filly. Her words, they cut me. I then want nothing more than to feel the warmth of my own children -- Crow had taken them away from me too. Their warmth, their love. He had replaced it with eh cold, iron prison. I shiver some more, dropping down to my knees. The worn ground bearing down, deep into my bones, my weary muscles. 'Aoki eats, she lives. She doesn't want to live, so Aoki does not eat.' green eyes meet the curious young filly, eyeing up her mother, who seems to have a cavernous mind, a dreary eye. I cannot help but think perhaps, perhaps Crow had his clutches of her too.
I feel another set of eyes, an array of feathers. The whites of my eyes widen, lighten at the sight of them. Oh, he's here. He's all around. I whip my head back to Gryffen. He had promised, promised me he could get rid of him, get rid of Crow. And yet he has brought me right into his lair, right where he can come out. The rusted chains shift, suddenly whipping past and I feel the coldness grip my skull, unseen hands wringing around my neck, silencing my need to shout, to scream. For him, for my pink knight (wherever he is.) and now, the pallid wolf, his red eyes, I meet with mine and I want to scream at him, cry out, and yet the sound comes out a garbled choked mess. 'You promised Aoki. Promised her Crow would leave. Crow is here. Crow is here.' I tremble, as though a leaf on a winter branch, the wind unrelenting in plucking me from my pedestal. Oh, but Gryffen is the wind and I, I am a lowly leaf, clinging to a breaking twig. I draw my eyes up to Straia, to Gryffen, to all of the vultures come to pick at my bones.
'Aoki will do anything, anything.' I plead, my voice near breaking, cracking like glass ice. 'Please, please get rid of Crow.'
x schizophrenic x captive x♠