Not a Good Day

It is no secret that I work at night. It is also no secret that I am a dark person. Today is one of the days I remember just how crazy I am. It is a panicky shaky overwhelmed sort of crazy that overflows and washes over the inside of my body. It is not the pleasant warm rain that just makes you want to stand in it and enjoy the feeling. It is a if my blood has turned to acid eating its way through my body making the blood vessels seep as it burns through them searching for something leaving tattered blistered remains behind.

The uneasiness consumes me forcing me to want to hide inside something even if it is a building as twisted as I am. I am uncomfortable in my own skin as if it is a million insects attempting to crawl off my body on its own. The acid in my veins encourages it and if I looked in the mirror I doubt that the skin on my face would remain there. It would melt away slipping down and dropping away with wet clops only to scuttle away going to hide in the black spires of the world inside my mind. My face would be left with exposed muscles and bone without expression and without a sign of the pain wracking my already too fragile body and mind.

Darkness ripples around me like a poisonous cloud forcing its way into my lungs making it feel as if I am breathing through sand. Shards of the ever present colored glass slicing through poking grotesquely through the spaces between my ribs. Scarred bits of me slip open weeping tears of blood that my eyes cannot. The misshapen mouths split from skin open wetly as if they are shrieking with a pain of their own as they choke on my blood. As I watch them gape open I expect to see eyes peeking at me through the smaller ones that rest above the widest of the splits. Staring at me accusing me through the truth of the mirror.

I don’t know what they would say. I want to but I cannot understand it through their choking gurgles as blood stumbles out of them increasing in both amount and speed. I strain my ears to understand because just maybe they have something valuable to say.

openwoundYes, Mine

 

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About Killingdanse

I am the girl that was pretty but too smart. I am the girl that you sat and discussed horror movies, sci-fi novels, and molecular genetics with but were scared of because sometimes you saw the darkness peak out from inside me.
This entry was posted in Deranged, Deranged Art and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Not a Good Day

  1. First of all I want to say superb blog! I had a quick
    question in which I’d like to ask if you do not mind. I was curious to find out how you center yourself and clear your head prior to writing. I’ve had difficulty clearing
    my mind in getting my thoughts out there.
    I truly do take pleasure in writing but it just seems like
    the first 10 to 15 minutes tend to be wasted simply just trying
    to figure out how to begin. Any ideas or hints? Thank you!

    • Killingdanse says:

      There really is no method to my madness. I just let the crazy spill out onto the page. The more you think about trying to write the harder it becomes. Just relax and write what pops into your head. You can always edit later. I do suspect that you are not sincere at all and this is yet another way to get spam onto a blog. But I answered just in case.

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