Submitted Date 04/18/2019

Curious was your manner toward the realm of what death made alive. While windows and mirrors revolved around the shattering of your soul, the challenge was given unto you to find that which all else had found.

Scents fell upon deaf ears when you walked by shrouded in the clouds of life unwanted. When reflection was placed into your hands, you gave it the breath of life.

Your mission could not succeed if the crimson did not flow from broken veins. If you accepted that you could not finish what was assigned, all else would decide to fail. And if you require a life sentence then you must make it worthwhile.

Perhaps submission is what was required of you. After all, submission is the new royalty. Choose royalty and you choose deliverance. But deliverance was not all it seemed to be.

And so you wallowed in the pit of joy's misery. The light was cold and dark. It pulled in your fears and hid them so far within that they showed on the surface of your skin. Wisdom became your enemy and lust your closest friend.

When you imagined the refuge for your soul, it was built in the sands of time. But even sand is washed away in the rain. Streams washed over you as you swept back and forth into the circle.

The time came where you gave away the shards of your eyes. No one would buy them so they became free.

You hid when you became beautiful and flaunted your own sadness. Your senses were dulled with every liquid flame that drenched the skin of your throat. Scenery blended together and you became faint with the pleasure. The pounding raged on so you covered it with wool.

You decided to spread yourself among all who would taste your tongue. It became a contest to see if you could conquer yourself.

Laughter fled when the light shone and the water poured. It only came when the room was dark and the cigarettes became ash.

Ash was the color of your eyes. And your eyes were emerald.

You gave away crowded spaces for vacant hearts. Empty hearts and full veins taste better anyway. Did it make you want to live a little more?

You scattered your flesh across the room and set it aflame. When the pain became intense, you cut it down with blades and tears.

Others tears tasted like honey on your lips and you sucked them dry.

Loneliness did not exist in your world of emptiness. Silence was your best friend in a room full of loudmouths that never stopped spitting.

If you looked away, the ground would swallow you piece by piece until all that remained was a still beating heart. The canvas you made became removed from the world you painted.

Seems like a pity to fall into an abyss of unknown creatures who drink up your guts. Yet you chose what you knew was the best for the spirit that long ago died. Truth did not make your heart stop beating or pull you back from the wall.

To quiver under boxes was not who you were. Nor did you ever show who you were. The boxes did not know how to hold you in the water without falling apart. You lost yourself in the waves, but the waves were occupied by those you did not understand.

If you had confessed your journey to the flowers, they would have let you stay. I guess you didn't care about crushing their petals.

You were naive in the way you sought after yourself. Protection of your castle was all that mattered even if all else was swallowed in the flood.

Stone after stone, you built the stairway to the sky where you jumped headfirst from the clouds. As you dove to the galaxies below, the stars twinkled in laughter.

Reaching out your hand, you caught the soul of the highest star. It shone bright in your clenched fist.

Your eyes were blinded so you tore them out and offered them to the gods. Fountains streamed from the sockets and created a river wide.

A boat was built and buckets were placed under your head. The streams were collected and sold to the masses. You were a prisoner god who worshiped your own pride.

The fountains flooded the worlds and all was destroyed. All history was gone as you formed new planets with the leftover clay.

Every plant was made with details that only you knew. And you put your soul into every speck of dirt. You crushed the rocks under your heel and created fine sand that you spread along the edges of the universe. It sparkled in the sky as you set it on fire. You hung a moon of glass and perfected the shine.

Apathy became your new hobby as you created and destroyed your worlds. An endless cycle was all that remained.

You fashioned yourself a desolate mind and loved who you became. Dancing alone in the deserted regions of the universe was all you now knew. You masked the agony you made and licked up the liquid from the soles of your feet.

An opportunity was offered to begin the process over, but you scoffed at the thought.

It didn't make you more valuable to be glamorous. All innocence was wrenched from your fervor, and you were helpless in your own gratification.

Help was no longer offered and the mission came to a close. Deliverance existed no more once the darkness encompassed you. Your face was caressed one last time and the pleasure that others brought existed no more.

Dreams could have been all that was left, but you crushed them in your teeth and swallowed them down.

When you shiver alone in the night, you will recall the memories ingrained in your mind. For all else will fade in time and memories will be all that remain.

Being a god must be lonely.

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