• im_gautamsunshine 6w

    Dust sighs phantoms out of silence, ethereal void tingles the nape of my neck -- my soul is elemental, and where I end; I begin.
    I see newness webbed by the crooked wrinkles of time, the sun burns then crusts in the cooling sky.
    I summon a bold reflection -- my throat goes numb when I stare,
    I find her already singing, trilling in full dawn skin -- her skeleton is a breeze.
    She chuckles the tunes, and screams with obvious breath that I shouldn't give up on her.
    As I sit back, I notice she is made of ribbon -- so I knot her.
    Is it time for me yet?
    What is my purpose other than killing her.
    Her remnants are inedible ink -- I am turning them into rhythmic poems.
    What is my essence if not but a merely repentance of me destroying all my best parts.
    I hope I'd be spared by the Gods of her kindness, and the Devils of her wrath.