Title: Anomaly
Pairing: None
Rating: T
He lived a sorrow, regretful life full of cheap wine and no permanent home. Skipping from motel to motel with dingy sheets, and stale bread for breakfast. As to why he chose such a morose lifestyle, no one dared ask. They leaved him alone.
To become stagnating. Box after box of cigarette inhaled and exhaled. CD's of rock and rollers; damaging his eardrum with each bass and beat are cemented in his brain. Forever the only thing he will hear, besides societies' critics and rants.
Women after women, yet no satisfaction. No love between them. No reason to go tantalizingly slow and take his time, and put desire and want into each thrust, and kiss her with passion.
A few attempts of ending his life, all different ways. All ended up in failure; Beast Boy lying on the floor in a fetal position, crying tears of shame and cowardice.
He couldn't enhance in anomaly; departure from the normal.
He had to have an attachment that reminded him he was alive. And not just a empty, soulless corpse walking, wanting more from life.
He wanted to feel free. He wanted to live a life of rarity. He wanted to run into the sunset. Literally. To become one with the mind changing beauty. To become a mixture of popping oranges, soft pinks and tranquil purples.
He wanted to hunt. To roam wild. To become a cheetah and run away from life. Fast enough that he'll be able to succeed. He'll feel the stress of the world lift of his shoulders, and then he will experience exhaustion. Because life catches up.
His bones will ache, and his muscles will scream and protest with each step. So he will lay down wherever and sleep well for the first time in 23 years.
A/N: Really can't say this is original. Got the idea from Charles Bukowski's poems. Check him out. He's really good. Kind of graphic and blunt, but haven't you read smut on this website?