Murmur
This is something random I wrote while feeling slightly demented one night... It's supposed to be about Axel, but only if you look at it with a microscope can you see any of the Axel x Roxas hints... Enjoy this random little not-really-a-story.
Left broken. Nothing to hold on to.
The light stings, but still, even in the dark of night, there is no peace.
For they are always there.
Stumbling blindly through the frothing stream of consciousness, there's got to be a light up ahead.
The bulb has burned out.
I'll protect you, nothing to fear.
And he's torn apart like a rag doll, blood bursting through torn seams and staining the cold ground.
Dogs nipping at your heels, the tongues of flame lick your wounds clean, the flesh falls and shrivels - I will keep you safe.
There is no escape.
He has been tied down and broken, all he cares torn away from him.
Not even within his mind is there rest.
I like myself, I like myself, I like myself.
The puppeteer tugs at his strings, and he is forced to obey.
He wishes to reach out, to finally confirm that he has a hold on reality.
But it slips away again.
The emptiness consumes like acid rain upon the filth that litters the streets.
It cannot end, it will not end, and you will stop it.
They comfort.
Huddling within the empty shell of his tattered frame, he waits.
He waits for death, for freedom, for him.
His waiting is futile.
Hush now, don't you cry, wipe those tears, and wait.
The thoughts come in a wave now, he panics, and blood is shed.
Unbelieving, he stands, up to his neck in the grit and slime of the broken city, broken thoughts, broken heart.
It never existed anyway.
Drive these nails into my skin, watch as it all fades away.
Suffocating, choking, he scrambles for the surface.
Breaks above the waves of pestilence.
And he is free.
You left me shattered, left me to live on my own on the streets that thrive upon the filth that clogs their pores.
And you expect me to love you.
Take me and break me, and save yourself.
I've got better ways to waste my time.