quinten virginia clemm. d6. (fin)
May 3, 2017 21:06:14 GMT -5
Post by vely. on May 3, 2017 21:06:14 GMT -5
seventeen|d6|male|fc:emil lennstrand
quinten.
This day, this day that's filled with bitter smoke, the burning of departed capsules. The pumping of the bloodied syringe, the sinking feeling that I know, there is no crystal chapel. She begs, she cries, she pleas to me. Who am I to tell her no? Who am I to revoke her of her fantasies, to rid her of her happy dreams. To me she is my flesh and blood, the tree from which I'm fruited. To me she is my mother and friend, to whom I am devoted.
Though I know I am nothing more then a boy who brings her pleasant presents. Presents that rot and pollute her mind and prevents her from salvation. She sat me down upon a wooden stool, my age less then the fingers on my two hands. She asked me to lie, to lie to them, and tell them I was sick. She asked me to tell the doctors that without help I would soon succumb to the sweet kiss that ends all life. The kiss that can only be dealt by the women who calls herself death.
Mother told me that if I didn't lie to them, then she would be unhappy. She made me memorize a list of words. Words much further then my elementary vocabulary. I was told to ask the doctors for these names, and hide them in the valley. She brushed aside my brittle chestnut mop, left a kiss atop my pale head. She told me that if I got these names for her, I soon could go to bed. She hummed to me to calm my nerves and then again she said, that if I do her bidding now, I soon could go to bed. I feel the tears well inside my oceanic eyes. And then she pushes my small frame toward the group of white jackets. They looked me over, watched me cry, but soon they sent me away with nothing more then a clear packet.
Within this packet I could see, a bundle of white oval beans. I knew that they must be magic, just as mother had said to me. That I was Jack and she wanted me to fetch some gold with might of havoc. But when I arrived home and gave her what she wished for, there was no thoughtful tails of giants rumored anymore. She simply took the packet away and wished me in my room to stay. You see this tale is not cut short, for it continues to this day. A reckless boy who does his mothers bidding, as she injects her very life away.
I am no different then I once was. I am still afraid and small you see. only now I stand tall and fake it, deceitfulness is key. My tousled hair my blackened eyes, this was all the doing of she. But I do not resent my mother she, was the tree that bared the fruit that ripened only to make me. So now I make a living selling the packets that I receive, from those doctors who sing and dance to the melody made by me. Alone I wonder through the night to afford a simple life. Cause mother can no longer do it alone due to her own discovered plight.
To trick the system takes an ill minded person, or so some of you may think. But I would be damned if I live my life only to watch mother sink. I lie, and lie, and lie for her, so that she may soar so high. I lie because she is my mother and blood runs thicker then water. There is no wine that can cure this curse, no stopping of this slaughter.
Perhaps now that I am seventeen, this day she will let my hands become clean. Though false hope has filled me many times before. I cannot let her torment me, I soon must settle this score. For if I live a life in sin, I may never part waters for my future kin. Leave me now, I have work to do. Cant you hear the echoing coo?
Though I know I am nothing more then a boy who brings her pleasant presents. Presents that rot and pollute her mind and prevents her from salvation. She sat me down upon a wooden stool, my age less then the fingers on my two hands. She asked me to lie, to lie to them, and tell them I was sick. She asked me to tell the doctors that without help I would soon succumb to the sweet kiss that ends all life. The kiss that can only be dealt by the women who calls herself death.
Mother told me that if I didn't lie to them, then she would be unhappy. She made me memorize a list of words. Words much further then my elementary vocabulary. I was told to ask the doctors for these names, and hide them in the valley. She brushed aside my brittle chestnut mop, left a kiss atop my pale head. She told me that if I got these names for her, I soon could go to bed. She hummed to me to calm my nerves and then again she said, that if I do her bidding now, I soon could go to bed. I feel the tears well inside my oceanic eyes. And then she pushes my small frame toward the group of white jackets. They looked me over, watched me cry, but soon they sent me away with nothing more then a clear packet.
Within this packet I could see, a bundle of white oval beans. I knew that they must be magic, just as mother had said to me. That I was Jack and she wanted me to fetch some gold with might of havoc. But when I arrived home and gave her what she wished for, there was no thoughtful tails of giants rumored anymore. She simply took the packet away and wished me in my room to stay. You see this tale is not cut short, for it continues to this day. A reckless boy who does his mothers bidding, as she injects her very life away.
I am no different then I once was. I am still afraid and small you see. only now I stand tall and fake it, deceitfulness is key. My tousled hair my blackened eyes, this was all the doing of she. But I do not resent my mother she, was the tree that bared the fruit that ripened only to make me. So now I make a living selling the packets that I receive, from those doctors who sing and dance to the melody made by me. Alone I wonder through the night to afford a simple life. Cause mother can no longer do it alone due to her own discovered plight.
To trick the system takes an ill minded person, or so some of you may think. But I would be damned if I live my life only to watch mother sink. I lie, and lie, and lie for her, so that she may soar so high. I lie because she is my mother and blood runs thicker then water. There is no wine that can cure this curse, no stopping of this slaughter.
Perhaps now that I am seventeen, this day she will let my hands become clean. Though false hope has filled me many times before. I cannot let her torment me, I soon must settle this score. For if I live a life in sin, I may never part waters for my future kin. Leave me now, I have work to do. Cant you hear the echoing coo?
words //712
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