The bats have left the bell tower
The victims have been bled
Since my birth awoke me from the perpetual state of floating, my pewter eyes have see few things other than the black sands of the beach. My mother is overprotective and possessive of me and I am unable to be alone for much.
I never sleep.
When I close my eyes I see them. The whispers are hushed but they scrape my ears like thick shards of jagged glass rubbed against concrete over and over till you look down and see the skin missing from your knuckles...
But back to where we were. Sometimes my mind gets so scattered. Sometimes the puzzle pieces just do not fit snugly into place.
The dead can see me and I can see them. It's worse when I cross the plateau into their land and take their form. There's been times I've tried to answer their cries and pleading eye sockets where eyes once were. I try to help them find peace but I can't.
I'm too small.
I'm too weak.
(Focus)
There is a boy ahead of me. He is dark like my skin but marked by a green stain..not actual markings. He is also a bit older I believe. He stands taller, assertive. I am nothing more than a shadow but I feel more comfortable this way like I slip off my skin and hang it on a hook. But I decide maybe...perhaps...I could try...
(There are a few lingering spirits moving around sluggishly. I've learned to avoid their faces because that's how they latch on to me)
I shift to my equine form near by some trees before I hope to attempt this. Breathe in. Breathe out. My body is always a bit awkward when I am a horse again. My legs wobble a bit more and my throat is clenched. I am walking, one hoof after another till I near the boy and I try to smile as my silver gray eyes focus on his face. It helps ground me and push away the decaying forms that haunt me.
I try to work my mouth but my jaw is made of iron that has rusted shut. Frustration crosses my young features and my brow furrows and then in my aggravation I simply -poof!- into a silvery damp mist of one of my many ghost forms. RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. My embarrassment tastes hot and coppery like blood, stinging my mouth and turning the attempted smile to a frown. I slowly take my skin form again and when I solidify I offer the lopsided smile to the boy. I'm not very good at this.
"Hullo." It's all that emerges from my sandpaper throat. My mercury filled pools look to the boy and I begin to count the seconds till he turns and runs.
One...
Two...
Three...
I never sleep.
When I close my eyes I see them. The whispers are hushed but they scrape my ears like thick shards of jagged glass rubbed against concrete over and over till you look down and see the skin missing from your knuckles...
But back to where we were. Sometimes my mind gets so scattered. Sometimes the puzzle pieces just do not fit snugly into place.
The dead can see me and I can see them. It's worse when I cross the plateau into their land and take their form. There's been times I've tried to answer their cries and pleading eye sockets where eyes once were. I try to help them find peace but I can't.
I'm too small.
I'm too weak.
(Focus)
There is a boy ahead of me. He is dark like my skin but marked by a green stain..not actual markings. He is also a bit older I believe. He stands taller, assertive. I am nothing more than a shadow but I feel more comfortable this way like I slip off my skin and hang it on a hook. But I decide maybe...perhaps...I could try...
(There are a few lingering spirits moving around sluggishly. I've learned to avoid their faces because that's how they latch on to me)
I shift to my equine form near by some trees before I hope to attempt this. Breathe in. Breathe out. My body is always a bit awkward when I am a horse again. My legs wobble a bit more and my throat is clenched. I am walking, one hoof after another till I near the boy and I try to smile as my silver gray eyes focus on his face. It helps ground me and push away the decaying forms that haunt me.
I try to work my mouth but my jaw is made of iron that has rusted shut. Frustration crosses my young features and my brow furrows and then in my aggravation I simply -poof!- into a silvery damp mist of one of my many ghost forms. RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. My embarrassment tastes hot and coppery like blood, stinging my mouth and turning the attempted smile to a frown. I slowly take my skin form again and when I solidify I offer the lopsided smile to the boy. I'm not very good at this.
"Hullo." It's all that emerges from my sandpaper throat. My mercury filled pools look to the boy and I begin to count the seconds till he turns and runs.
One...
Two...
Three...
graveside
@[Pyroclast]