TITLE: Blind Background
AUTHOR: Lisa
EMAIL: Saturn_girl19@yahoo.com
CATEGORY: Scully Angst, a song fic of sorts RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Please just let me know.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine. Sarah McLachlan's song "Strange World" is not mine either. That's all there is to it. AUTHOR'S NOTES: The words in between stars are from "Strange World." Some lyrics may have been rendered to fit the story.
SUMMARY: Post episode for Orison
X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X
I'm walking through this forest of trees. *My eyes are twisted down to a dew entailed ground. I watch the stars as they slowly fade away and in the clearing sky I see the cold stone face of morning setting in on me. *Everything that has come before this is a blind background, an empty canvas, yet to be painted upon. But I know, when I look within myself that something is wrong. Something is wrong with me. But I keep walking, aimlessly heading towards a destiny that I cannot see, because not only is my background blind, but my foreground too. I do not know where I am headed, the only thing that I know for sure is, *it's a strange world. It's a very strange world that leaves me holding on to nothing when there's nothing left to lose. *
Mulder told me I can not judge myself for what happened. But aren't I already being judged as I meander through this forest of doubt, slowly going nowhere? I can feel God's eyes bore holes into my flesh, and contort His face into one of scorn. His voice is holding me back, mumbling incoherent verses of unrecognized sermons of the damned. His invisible hands are around my waist, choking the breath out of my belly. He is gazing down at me, wondering what happened to his innocent auburn child.
I am becoming nostalgic now. I am yearning for my youth, for days when complication meant nothing more than tying shoe laces. The lightning of reality is striking me down into a restless sleep of dark dreams of nothingness, dreams where the word "dream" is deemed as profanity, and love is a disease. I am cursed.
I am embracing the essence of my worth, the validity of my putrid presence. I am breaking down the bones of my inadequacies, the truth of my self- hatred for what I have done. I look at the world as it spins in my frail, shaking hands, and it crumbles like dry clay.
I look at the evil that has become of me. I cannot look at the blue of my eyes. It only represents the blue of my blood as it has become cold and icy beneath my flesh. I am transparent. The blue is all you can see. The colors of fall that used to lie below have trickled out for good, without my ever being able to reveal what I was before.
But what I was before is gone, replaced by a blackness, a dark I cannot control. It is sweeping its hands around me, waiting for me to repent, so I give in, and succumb to the forest of nothingness around me.* It's a strange world. It's a very strange world that leaves me holding on to nothing when there's nothing left to lose. *
EMAIL: Saturn_girl19@yahoo.com
CATEGORY: Scully Angst, a song fic of sorts RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Please just let me know.
DISCLAIMER: These characters are not mine. Sarah McLachlan's song "Strange World" is not mine either. That's all there is to it. AUTHOR'S NOTES: The words in between stars are from "Strange World." Some lyrics may have been rendered to fit the story.
SUMMARY: Post episode for Orison
X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X
I'm walking through this forest of trees. *My eyes are twisted down to a dew entailed ground. I watch the stars as they slowly fade away and in the clearing sky I see the cold stone face of morning setting in on me. *Everything that has come before this is a blind background, an empty canvas, yet to be painted upon. But I know, when I look within myself that something is wrong. Something is wrong with me. But I keep walking, aimlessly heading towards a destiny that I cannot see, because not only is my background blind, but my foreground too. I do not know where I am headed, the only thing that I know for sure is, *it's a strange world. It's a very strange world that leaves me holding on to nothing when there's nothing left to lose. *
Mulder told me I can not judge myself for what happened. But aren't I already being judged as I meander through this forest of doubt, slowly going nowhere? I can feel God's eyes bore holes into my flesh, and contort His face into one of scorn. His voice is holding me back, mumbling incoherent verses of unrecognized sermons of the damned. His invisible hands are around my waist, choking the breath out of my belly. He is gazing down at me, wondering what happened to his innocent auburn child.
I am becoming nostalgic now. I am yearning for my youth, for days when complication meant nothing more than tying shoe laces. The lightning of reality is striking me down into a restless sleep of dark dreams of nothingness, dreams where the word "dream" is deemed as profanity, and love is a disease. I am cursed.
I am embracing the essence of my worth, the validity of my putrid presence. I am breaking down the bones of my inadequacies, the truth of my self- hatred for what I have done. I look at the world as it spins in my frail, shaking hands, and it crumbles like dry clay.
I look at the evil that has become of me. I cannot look at the blue of my eyes. It only represents the blue of my blood as it has become cold and icy beneath my flesh. I am transparent. The blue is all you can see. The colors of fall that used to lie below have trickled out for good, without my ever being able to reveal what I was before.
But what I was before is gone, replaced by a blackness, a dark I cannot control. It is sweeping its hands around me, waiting for me to repent, so I give in, and succumb to the forest of nothingness around me.* It's a strange world. It's a very strange world that leaves me holding on to nothing when there's nothing left to lose. *