this hollow house of mine {lancelot}

{ a t l a s ;

Some days hurt a bit more than others, that's when I crave the static flood the most.

I'd been awoken by the golden sunlight piercing my eyelids in an area beyond human reasoning. A stranger's house barely clothed with my a thousand tons forming a sea of black pressure against my forehead and surrounded by strangers who I barely remembered in flashes and blasts from the past. I left as soon as I gathered myself and regained the feeling in my feet.

I suppose I'm just an elusive shadow, never managing to stay in one place for longer than a night that just happens to lie outside of the boundaries of my parent's manor. Just a drifter, just there, just constant.

I saw myself in the mirror, face pale, eyes reddening, body malfunctioning.

I try to ignore the biting cold nipping at my tired flesh and the blood rushing to my head and the bile that threatens to rush from my stomach through to my throat and focus on the slow moving ground to no one in particular. "I don't think I'm very well." I say to no one in particular before stumbling and catching myself on the wall.

The static flood was worth it, even now.