the boy with tree trunk arms. {arx}
Jan 31, 2016 0:18:56 GMT -5
Post by grim. on Jan 31, 2016 0:18:56 GMT -5
ahri crear.
without f e a r we only
witness the pain within others
in meaning we never
truly understand how to
e m p a t h i z e
witness the pain within others
in meaning we never
truly understand how to
e m p a t h i z e
My body smells of drying mildew. My face rugged with sweat and black with tar. I can feel the burning heat radiate from my skin. The sound of large metal drills ringing through my scalp. I feel the icy stares of those around me, though in reality I was the last thought on their minds. I was simply another ant in a pool of many, hard at work. I watch as the blackish liquids mix in pools below me. My knees feeling weak, my muscles beginning to shutter. I could feel my pours filling with liquid, the steam from so much heavy machinery causing beads of sweat to roll down my spine.
I take my beanie off, running my free hand alone the short stems of my hair, watching as the sweat scatters from my scalp in various directions. I attempt to wipe sweat from my neck with my hand, but it only seemed to spread the oil that covered my hands so heavily. My boots were completely covered in the charcoal substance. I feel itchy on every inch of my flesh. This job was never the most comfortable, and it never paid well, but it was my fathers legacy, and he expects the best from me and my brothers. I would not fail him, for I am obedient.
I smell the smothering stench of all the other men around me, their bodies about in as bad a shape as mine. I cant help but wish for a fresh breathe. I begin to feel my head spin, this environment had grown accustom to me, but had I to it? I begin to see the room turn, my feet feeling less like they were holding my weight. I then took a stupid step into a puddle of oil, my body shifting backward, as my spine flails first toward the hard stone floor. I don't make a sound, there was too much adrenaline pumping through my veins.
But to my surprise I feel the firm grasp of a boys arm around my waist. I flutter my eyes a bit trying to regain vision. I was inches from the ground, but he pulls me back up to standing. Before he lets go I wrap my hands around his bicep. It was huge, too large for my to wrap a single hand around, possible too large to wrap two hands around. I cant help but make a frazzled expression. I look around still trying to regain my bearings.
I eventually find my way to this boys face. He looked a bit older then me, his face riddled with bruises and cuts. But even with a busted face he had a rather attractiveness to him. I feel as his arm unwraps from my waist, and I feel my feet regain structure. After a few seconds of silence I finally speak out. "Thank you, I guess our shit for air just got to me." I say, sticking my palm out to embrace his hand for a proper greeting. Father had always said manors were that of respectable men.
filled with o b e d i e n c e
I watch and listen
for my feet will never stray
from a path with which i was g i v e n
credit//briar
