come and join the party, leave anxieties behind [mylee/rook]
Nov 22, 2015 18:49:54 GMT -5
Post by rook on Nov 22, 2015 18:49:54 GMT -5
we're just a group of your white blood cells fighting off parasites
we're your system mechanics trying to fix this machine
what's the one thing that has more speed, more strength,
and goes deeper than us?
a nuclear submarine
Drenched. The stars have wept and soaked me in phosphorescence. Like algae I radiate, a pulsating mess of decrepit radiation. Putrid my face, red and bulbous, angry but at the same time so empty. I wretch and heave but nothing shifts in my stomach. I exist merely as this vanquished demon, dissolving into a puddle or ash, or maybe both. A stake is driven into my heart, and each heartbeat is a beat down on that stake. Driving into the very core of me, splitting me into two, into three, into a million pieces. Shattered is the girl I once was.
But I've always been shattered.
Petal. An awful name for an awful girl. She ran away so far from home that she didn't know who she was any more. Her soul was ripped from her, and a new one was duct taped in place. Your name is Quentin, Quinten, Quinn. Is it? Is that who I am? Have I been this false girl for so long that I have no choice any more. I am Quetin Peters. This false identity was given to me, but it's who I am now. Petal Quill is dead, along with Draco and Margaret. All that's left is this girl who waltzes up to the bar and orders ten tequila shots and then shoots a gun at the tacky chandelier. The girl who brings home boys and brings home girls and gets fucked, and fucks, and fucking just fuck it all for fuck's sake.
I am so, so alone.
So I shiver on the floor, in the kitchen, in my house, alone. There is no one. This tiled floor may as well be the great abyss in all it's expanse, with no walls and no ceiling, just the floor. Cold. Hard. Real. Not real. I pull the hood of my hoodie over my head, hiding my hatred and hideous features. No one is here to judge me except for myself, but I do it anyway because in life, the harshest judge on us is ourselves. It's dark. So dark. The lights are off because no one is home.
No one is home.
He was the best of us, even if I didn't want to admit it at the time. Strong, resolute, silent. He didn't understand things in the same way we did, but that didn't make him any less of a person. He was misunderstood, but not to me. I understood him.
"I FUCKING UNDERSTOOD HIM!"
My throat is raw, my eyes are dry and wet at the same time, stinging in denial. He can't be dead, but he is. Stone cold reality. Draco is gone, just like Margaret is gone, and just like we'll all just go in the end. We're all insignificant until the moment that we're significant to someone. Bleed me out, I'm the same as everyone else, you'll see. You'll all see when I'm gone that I was right. We're all vessels. That's it. Worthless fucking sacks of shit.
I'm so tired.
Margaret. Where are you? Why did you leave? Those nights we spent just talking about life. I told you that bodies were just capsules that contained the real us. You agreed with me. We smoked some herb and stumbled out onto that hill that overlooked Seven. Man, the tree canopies danced in the wind like something else. I was going to tell you how I felt but how could I stain what we had. How could I risk it. What if you had said no. She would have said no. I'm not good enough for her, and she didn't like girls. She wasn't into girls. I was just her friend, just her shitty best friend, that was all. Shitty fucking...
"I love you." I press my face against the kitchen floor, "I'm sorry."
I wasn't there. I didn't volunteer. I wasn't there. I'm still not there. Where am I? Wasn't there for Margaret, wasn't there for Draco, wasn't even there for my friends when they died. Selfish shitty fucking junkie. Get off the chems, they're fucking you up. But I need them. I need them.
Margaret said I didn't need them. She said I could be so much more without the ketamine and the ecstasy and the herbs and the tobacco but life is so bleak and harsh that we need that buzz to fuel us. This world is so black and cold. I went to smoke that crystal, and she grabbed my hand, pulled it away. My heart raced more at that contact than any hit of any drug. How could I have told her that? How could I have put that emotional blackmail on her? Be my drug and I won't need to get wasted. That would have been selfish. I couldn't do that, not to her.
I sit up and reach for a needle on the table. I can't take this any more. I need to just float away. Away from the pain and towards some fake hallucination of the girl I loved. Please, just let me see her again.knocked off my feet by the backdraft brought back to earth
oxygen clears my head and I just gotta say
oh you're not gonna believe this
you can't perceive this
this is like nothing you've seen before
but lucky for you
yea lucky for you
this is an open doorword count: 836, graphics: rook
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