Poetry by Faulkner Style
he runs
he runs like anything like anything that wasn't and like anything that was and running and run and he ran ran until he couldn't he couldn't breathe feet flapping and splashing and flying like birds like sparrows he runs
he can fly he knows how he can do he learned he knows he runs runs faster than flying and flies like running and his eyes are wild and every muscle runs to help him fly to fly he breathes
but he can't he can't breathe he feels like he's dying he feels like he's crashing he breathes he sucks in air like anything like water like life like rage like fear and he can't breathe breathe breathe but
he never stops running running like the wind running like dirt like a shovel like a rabbit like a fox like a nova like a dream before waking
he runs
he can feel him he can feel him breathing he can feel him laughing (the bastard) but he doesn't stop running and can feel him all around like he was taking the air taking the air away and far
and what now what now he can't be caught not by him no way he can run he can run faster but he can barely walk but
that doesn't mean a damn that doesn't have a fuck to do with anything with nothing at all
he can fight he can fight like all the fires of hell like the void of space like the darkness and demons of his heart he can fight he can fight like all but the boy can't catch him no way in hell not him definitely not him not that punk not that child not that bast-
he's tackled from behind roughly, and doesn't fall to the ground but still runs but now he's rolling instead rolling on the ground running heels over head and head over heels and he can feel him all around his scent and smell and taste stronger than ever and bitter and everywhere
--GET OFF—
he was struck again, struck and beaten like the first time, like the second time, with the same strength and same places
he knows this style now, knows it and can almost predict it almost foresee it and knows there's no defense the boy is wide open no experience no caution he isn't this is all instinct and chemicals some damn pitiful chemicals that even the woman could beat and he can't he can't and
he screams and powers up because he can beat this punk he could fight this child this brainy worthless whelp of a bastard anger anger go angry angry is always the key go angry
but he's tired
the attacks have been deadly and full strength with a strength that is mixed and hybrid and adaptive highly adaptive evolution by the second and the savage power of his own race
and he's running on his own
and he's running out
he's floored and pinned without knowing how and all he can see is the snarling fire envy lime and spikes that glow and merge without much battle smooth the pale golden majesty of Super Saiyan married with the white of the grinning skull in the sky behind him and all the man can see-
-knives of bone of ivory steel like a tiger like a lion and the grinning snarl of the maniac demon boy bloody and burning above him and he knows what comes next so-
-he takes a chance
he drops his power
black bleeds black his body weakens and bends and sinks into the earth and the hands that hold him and grip him and hold him
the grin falters, hesitate, teeth yet hungering and burning still but this wasn't how it was supposed to be this wasn't how it was last time blood he wanted blood this one, this one's blood it had to be this one this one's skin this one's body it had to be this one but he wasn't supposed to do this why was he doing this he wasn't supposed-
he sees his opening his first his only this wouldn't work again this wouldn't work twice the was gone gone without a trace without the fear without the passivity without the weakness but he knows he's not stupid this is still the boy still the boy the boy is smart smarter than the father have to be careful have to be sure have to take another chance have to throw him off keep him off balance off guard just long enough mess with his mind his mind his body's too strong mess with his mind
he reaches up to the mouth the mouth that still snarls and growls and hungers and desires and desires so strong so deep it's almost frightening but he's not frightened of anything so he takes the chance and thinks back to when the teeth sank in slid in into his skin into his muscle he could feel the meat the flesh separate and the pain he remembers the pain but the real searing and salt and burning and iron is the shame the shame in his mind in his heart (he should have been the one to choose not be chosen not him not like that he was a prince his father his father was king he should have chosen) and he takes a chance
his lips are cold
cold and hard, it's too hard to move them it takes thought
the boy's lips are feverish
too warm too hot sickly heat sickly smothering heat that's hard and unyielding and threatening and aloof and angry and it doesn't matter it doesn't matter it didn't work it didn't work
the boy breathes in a heavy sigh a breathy sigh a sound and a sigh all the way from his toes and the bottom of his soul and melts –slowly—into—the other
he removes his lips to find another spot against his prey against his prize and just does that just does that between heartbeats between pulses and holds the tone and stretches the fear stretches the cold stretches the frigid sweat and icy silence for as long as he can, letting only the liquid pool pond soft splashing of his lips play a slow jazzy blues in the air like a tapping crystal like slow piano in the empty mansion made of snow in his bones like a solo like a tune slow small kisses young kisses little messy touches in between heartbeats and the slightest brush of tongue against teeth and shy and childish and little baby kisses
he pulls back a second a heartbeat in normal time and looks into the eyes of his prey the eyes of his prize the dark depths where whole wars are raged and fought and massacred and beings succumb and beg and plead and die in those darks in those depths of power and hate and fire-
-and the boy smiles like an idiot
His power drops dramatically, and he faints unconscious and tired and dead asleep in the other's arms on the other's chest and passes out.
It is very quiet.
Normal time returns.
"Well, fuck it all.
~~~~
