"Lift the mattress off the floor.
Walk the cramps off,
Go meander in the cold.
Hail to your dark skin,
hiding the fact you're dead again...
Underneath the power lines seeking shade..."
-The Shins "Caring is Creepy"
What is the purpose of tears if pain conveys through sound? Because the worst pain is silent.
Does she watch me even now as the grassy plain outside mocks me? Mocks my fate, mocks my future? I can hear its whispers while dark grey skies above do nothing but confuse with their psychic cacophony of feelings, lies, fragments and obsessions unfed. It speaks of the hands I've forced, the decisions I've made that will follow me for years and the times when I questioned the safety of my own actions upon my sanity...
What can I say or do to prove anything to her... the mistress of my fate? I am a convict now. I ran and through my cowardice I now suffer. The shining bone in my pocket provides a light and a window in the darkness but that can't suppress the dread.
I am sorry for the hands I've forced, the decisions I've made. All in the shadow of the silent mocking and the misinterpretation. Bonds broken and bridges burned, all for a false hope of peace and quiet. The ones about to be hung that I've cut free, the ones with their own hidden clockwork hearts and the ones half blind from birth all stand up in my memory. A shining distraction that could have led to hope that when true clairvoyance reveals the pitiful chance of any gears emerging from the mucky oozing clockwork fitting in any other machine... Some will live to become nothing more than pillars of salt, and others may die to become bumps on the road to nowhere.
My own corpse lies on the doorstep ripped apart and leaking wasted potential through a hole in its forehead.
The lack of a sun outside... the feeling of festering within your own skin are all signs of a creeping demise. Survival my only option no matter the cost as now all ends will justify the means. I don't even know if I can try to make this dream a paradise anymore. In the reflection of the dark upon the shining bone I can see the refracted image of the headless horse who visited me in the rare sleep. Its cauterized neck turns to me and spasms, a rain of crimson mist spraying through the reflection in front of of me. As it hangs in the air the mist curls into the shape of a man... an image suddenly split into two halves vertically down the middle. One half forms an open cage iron maiden, the other the skin of a wolf in the steppes with an eye of brighter red. My only hope of escape. I scream as my mind is ripped apart by my own claws, splitting my cell through a mental Mitosis.The mutt claws through the nightmare, while the convict watches and cries. The hound hits the ground running while the suspect is re-absorbed by the darkness. The Wolf heads for the sea while the innocent lays dying.
Until my strife ends I am the Red Eyed Wolf.
The Convict shall waste away in this false Asylum.
A left rib and tooth torn from my body torn from my body, infused with the energy of the shining bone to become a vessel, my wolf in rest as the boat forms from the translucent waters. A sanctuary formed from pain. Just a way to try to ease some of it away.
"I'm everything you've wanted.
I am the one that's haunting you.
I hold the lies inside of you that stare back at you.
There's nothing left to lose.
There's nothing left to prove.
Surrender your
It's all you can do."
- Skillet "Savior"
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