•{ To close your eyes and see the stars of the heavens, to see god himself. }•
What is it like to see your unachievable, deepest desires come to reality and lay its warm embrace upon your skin, filling you to the brim with fantasies of the paperboy really being the prince's guardsman, looking to marry you?
What is it like to be able to grasp a star, feeling its heat in the palm of your hand, boiling the skin off of your muscle and bone?
How does it taste? The blood of your enemies, the metallic taste seeping between your teeth, filling your mouth with butter metallic sweetness, dripping down your throat into your esophagus?
What does it feel like to see an angel? Did it blind you, the beauty of the angelic eye-covered creature?
Does it hurt when you fall from clouds into the vast ocean? Do you see the fish swarming around your limp body, nipping at the cloth upon your skin, tickling your nose with their fins?
Do you cry when they leave you? When they walk through the door, never looking back at you to think about the love they once felt? Does it hurt?
What is it like to dream?
As I check my vital signs, a tear slips down my glistening cheek. What is real? Is my heart truly beating or am I just a dream? Maybe I am just a creation of someone's imagination, used only to entertain them with my silly antics.
What is it like to be real, my father? To sleep... to have dreams... to have a purpose in life besides to entertain something... to get urges to sin. Shall I ever know, or am I stuck in the hell of flickering in and out of existence, only existing when I'm wanted or needed?
Will there ever be a purpose to this nightmare of being forced to change my face to make a child laugh? The child's laughter has become a sound reminding me only of my non-existentence and inability to live a joyful life, full of normal human urges and dreams.
Why must I exist this way?
Please, just imagine me dead.
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Blessed Sins
PoetryI wrote a (few) poems because why not? And I'm ✨ s a d ✨ This story also contains swearing
