Back on Livejournal again. Where's my warm welcome?
Stoic and cold she sways in the whirlwind. Driven by desire she falls. The symphony of invisible slaps hit her body in rhythms. The feeling of separation begins as her neck is severed in two. Both pieces travel to different paths. She chases the bloody beats.
Her heart falling into flowing sheets. The intoxicating taste of skin taking over. A mixture of warning gasps and hollering shouts of encouragement flood from the audience. Intensity growing as the scene unfolds. She holds the script littered with lines. With uncertainty she reads the lies with him. The eyes and voices all different as the story progresses. Never wanting to let go she latches. Hoping their lips will take hold and stay. She won't go until you follow. Nervous...she stops. Her gaze dancing among the crowd. Only to disover their pupils and irides are built to crave entertainment. Never to offer her aid. Feeling the need to satisfy their hunger her mouth fell silent as her body spoke loudly. In her prison of flesh and sweat she reaches out. The indecisiveness overwhelming her shaking hand, longing for salvation.
The rotating dial commands her loss of balance. Acknowledging her surroundings she follows after her skull. Carried away she waits alone in a void of darkness; wrapped in chains and hollow hope. A slice of light pouring into the room. She focuses as column shadows of feet pass by. As each approaches her chest caves in. One pair after another they pass only to pause for seconds at a time. Shes waits... shes waits. The familar sound of clicking soles awake her from her extended slumber. Her dirty face stares hopelessly as the bronze handle turns. As it opens her bloodshot eyes reject light. Cries of happiness spill from her mouth as the figure approaches. The touch, the smell, the taste fell into place. Imagination was obsolete to the reality taking place. Fitted gently in the warm mold she smiles.
The cue triggers the audience to applaud. A sea of faces beaming with approval. The deafening sound of slapping palms had never been so comforting. The peace treaty of this war was signed and sealed. It was the end. Caught off guard by panic she collapses. Equip now with realization of her fear she runs toward the screen with pleading eyes. The pixels flicker and disappear.
Her heart falling into flowing sheets. The intoxicating taste of skin taking over. A mixture of warning gasps and hollering shouts of encouragement flood from the audience. Intensity growing as the scene unfolds. She holds the script littered with lines. With uncertainty she reads the lies with him. The eyes and voices all different as the story progresses. Never wanting to let go she latches. Hoping their lips will take hold and stay. She won't go until you follow. Nervous...she stops. Her gaze dancing among the crowd. Only to disover their pupils and irides are built to crave entertainment. Never to offer her aid. Feeling the need to satisfy their hunger her mouth fell silent as her body spoke loudly. In her prison of flesh and sweat she reaches out. The indecisiveness overwhelming her shaking hand, longing for salvation.
The rotating dial commands her loss of balance. Acknowledging her surroundings she follows after her skull. Carried away she waits alone in a void of darkness; wrapped in chains and hollow hope. A slice of light pouring into the room. She focuses as column shadows of feet pass by. As each approaches her chest caves in. One pair after another they pass only to pause for seconds at a time. Shes waits... shes waits. The familar sound of clicking soles awake her from her extended slumber. Her dirty face stares hopelessly as the bronze handle turns. As it opens her bloodshot eyes reject light. Cries of happiness spill from her mouth as the figure approaches. The touch, the smell, the taste fell into place. Imagination was obsolete to the reality taking place. Fitted gently in the warm mold she smiles.
The cue triggers the audience to applaud. A sea of faces beaming with approval. The deafening sound of slapping palms had never been so comforting. The peace treaty of this war was signed and sealed. It was the end. Caught off guard by panic she collapses. Equip now with realization of her fear she runs toward the screen with pleading eyes. The pixels flicker and disappear.