I just don't know. This is really weird and I didn't know what to do with
it after I wrote it so I decided to post it and see what other people
thought, so please tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: if you're dumb enough to think I own anything, then this story is probably going to go over your head.
"Me"
PG13 (I think it should be PG but I don't want to risk it :shrugs:)
Mad River
************************************************************************
Tendrils of darkness seep through the cracks beneath my door. Sinewy tentacles of burning despair which I will embrace without qualms.
Nothing else compares to the eerie calmness the nothingness brings. I rejoice as the strands glide over the plushy white carpet overcoming the plain ordinary fabric and turning it into a pool of endless black, on closer inspection realizing that only blood could look that empty while traveling the expanse of time and space.
You would think that by now I would be recoiling back, enfolding my frame into a protective cocoon underneath the bed sheets in a fruitless attempt to fend off the oncoming assault upon my senses. But I know this. This is me.
My being craves the icy fingers that slowly trail up my legs, unwittingly caressing my trembling limbs with indifferent precision. I wish it could be different, but I know better. It's just me.
Solace is all I can offer without care to my quivering heart. I must not ponder on what it means; I must not ponder on what could be. So I yield. I embrace the darkness, I know better but that's just me.
Ripples of feeling run down my spine as I move to accommodate and I'm rewarded as the encompassing presence covers me the way it did the forgotten carpet and, as I open to the invasion, my shadow comes into being as its coldness is replaced by my warmth.
I will not be turning the darkness away, not tonight. Not when the need leaves me breathless and aching for more. I grasp it and hold it to my breast; solace is something I can give. I'm human; solace is my area of expertise.
Feeling is all I can reach and comprehend as my comfortable heat lights a fire that envelops, burning away the cruel reality, offering nothing but the moment and yet giving me the world. Hot, so hot. Silly and stupid but mine nonetheless. My emotions. It's still only me.
And as the crescendo finally spills over, I can breathe once more. But it's only my delusions, since it leaves me yet again.
Satisfied yet longing for more, but not daring to tempt fate. That's my curse. I'm worthy but still not good enough.
Come back, please. Don't leave me. Light has yet to come and turn you away.
Hope is dashed. It always is. I'm such a fool. I can't deny it anything.
It will come again.
Tomorrow.
With twilight.
I will welcome it.
I always do.
Like a moth to a flame.
Simply me.
Justified.
Always me.
************************************************************************
I'm really curious to find out what you guys thought of this. I know it's kind of silly, but I'm experimenting with some different styles of writing and I want to see how I do with angst. I know I haven't posted stories on this site to be known widely and recognized with a certain style, but I do write and trust me when I say, this is different. Please review.
Mad River
Disclaimer: if you're dumb enough to think I own anything, then this story is probably going to go over your head.
"Me"
PG13 (I think it should be PG but I don't want to risk it :shrugs:)
Mad River
************************************************************************
Tendrils of darkness seep through the cracks beneath my door. Sinewy tentacles of burning despair which I will embrace without qualms.
Nothing else compares to the eerie calmness the nothingness brings. I rejoice as the strands glide over the plushy white carpet overcoming the plain ordinary fabric and turning it into a pool of endless black, on closer inspection realizing that only blood could look that empty while traveling the expanse of time and space.
You would think that by now I would be recoiling back, enfolding my frame into a protective cocoon underneath the bed sheets in a fruitless attempt to fend off the oncoming assault upon my senses. But I know this. This is me.
My being craves the icy fingers that slowly trail up my legs, unwittingly caressing my trembling limbs with indifferent precision. I wish it could be different, but I know better. It's just me.
Solace is all I can offer without care to my quivering heart. I must not ponder on what it means; I must not ponder on what could be. So I yield. I embrace the darkness, I know better but that's just me.
Ripples of feeling run down my spine as I move to accommodate and I'm rewarded as the encompassing presence covers me the way it did the forgotten carpet and, as I open to the invasion, my shadow comes into being as its coldness is replaced by my warmth.
I will not be turning the darkness away, not tonight. Not when the need leaves me breathless and aching for more. I grasp it and hold it to my breast; solace is something I can give. I'm human; solace is my area of expertise.
Feeling is all I can reach and comprehend as my comfortable heat lights a fire that envelops, burning away the cruel reality, offering nothing but the moment and yet giving me the world. Hot, so hot. Silly and stupid but mine nonetheless. My emotions. It's still only me.
And as the crescendo finally spills over, I can breathe once more. But it's only my delusions, since it leaves me yet again.
Satisfied yet longing for more, but not daring to tempt fate. That's my curse. I'm worthy but still not good enough.
Come back, please. Don't leave me. Light has yet to come and turn you away.
Hope is dashed. It always is. I'm such a fool. I can't deny it anything.
It will come again.
Tomorrow.
With twilight.
I will welcome it.
I always do.
Like a moth to a flame.
Simply me.
Justified.
Always me.
************************************************************************
I'm really curious to find out what you guys thought of this. I know it's kind of silly, but I'm experimenting with some different styles of writing and I want to see how I do with angst. I know I haven't posted stories on this site to be known widely and recognized with a certain style, but I do write and trust me when I say, this is different. Please review.
Mad River