Eternity on Paper [COMPLETE]

The Great White Spot

I admire the figures hanging from the rafters as I grip the porcelain heart in my hand. The way they sway hypnotizes me and their knack for defying gravity with graceful ease inspires the shadows in my mind. My eyes turn inside out, and I see the way I'm hooked on licking razorblades and the taste of bleach.

Black holes face the world and oceans flood the vessel. My flesh has been stripped and the innards divided among the starving. Imposition for the imposing is a fitting fate and curiosity killed the cat with one life.

The prosopagnosia has reached the final stage. What remains is a darkness home to swords in a box. Shapeshifters make their home like termites in wood, eating away until there's nothing left. Nature or nurture?

A noose carries me higher than them, the distance isolating but the view breathtaking. As above, so below: the legs beneath them bring a warming closeness, yet their view is hideous. Not the right time and forever out of place, a gentle touch is a boot on the neck and a cry for help is a declaration of superiority. Sigils everywhere but no key.

I release the porcelain heart and it shatters to pieces on the ground. I smash the remaining pieces beneath my step. This heart is mine to crush, not yours. This body is mine to destroy, not yours. This soul is mine to sell, not yours.

This smile is mine to fake, not yours.