CW: Slight gore, visceral.
You are in the middle of a forest, surrounded by shadows and fog
You are standing between two trees that are like mirrors of each other, almost as if you are the mirror
You walk
The mirrors follow you
You are standing in between two parallel worlds.
You are unphased
Contrary to the moon, which is rapidly phasing through the trees
It waxes and wanes with you
You know that the speed at which, it goes is the same as your pace, despite the two being incomparable.
Here in this mirrored woods, they are
The mirrored woods is beginning to lose its mirrored quality.
They start to fight each other; they are closer and closer to reaching opposites
But the moon stays steady in the skies, and they stay together
On one side you feel the fog become foggier, and the falling leaves fall into dust
But on the other side of you, there is life and action in the forest, the fog lifts, and the night animals feast on the spices of the earth.
You look behind you, mushrooms sprout from the ground from one of your foot's prints, but the other prints leave leaves to decay and dry despite the wet air, and wrinkle into dust
You feel this tension this dread, you feel yourself splitting, and feeling both worlds,
One face looks up, the other down
One face sees the starless sky, the other sees your legs lose their flesh, then their fat, and muscle
One leg draws flies, harvesting the meat off of your bones, it drips blood, the surviving meat decaying and rotting,
The other is clean, shiny bone, sparkling despite the new moon
You feel yourself stretch from yourself more, snatched into these worlds, consciousnesses torn apart yet still together, you don't know what world is your favorite, they both feel like home
Your decayed body falls to the ground, engulfed by the dust of the maple leaves.
You feel safe
Your sparkling bone runs and runs, the night animals filling your ribcage and skull, mushrooms are now your feet
You feel life
And then the moon stops phasing
