they don't understand me when i tell them i am destined for doom.
i don't know how to explain it, i can just feel it. my bones are hollow. my mind is strange. i was not crafted for this world. i cannot stay here long.
nothing is within my grasp. everything is too far to touch. tomorrow is not a blur, but a blank. yesterday is rotting with the cavities of my mistakes.
everything around me is much too real. i must be a ghost.
i look up at my creator and scream my questions. surely there has been a mistake. i cannot belong here. i should not exist. whereas life floats onto others like a coat of cooling mist, it sticks to me in patches like tar. it will consume me. pull me under.
please clear the area. there's a drowning hazard.
YOU ARE READING
the shepherd's sword
Random[the things we dare not say aloud] the walls have faces, you know. the angels do not.
