So this is life?
A whirlwind of colors assaulting you constantly every step you go?
I feel I am draining, my lights are dimming.
Still, I must hold on I I am to keep the shadow at bay.
Every day It becomes stronger.
Every day, It is harder to keep at bay.
Brother is unknowingly walking towards it and I have near to no light left to hold him back.
The only burst of green in the barren pit of my life is that purple smoke.
She loves brother.
And love gives off so much more light than desperation.
She has a vague idea of what she is doing.
She sees the shadow, yet not as I do.
She fights alongside me every day.
All the while i'm drowning, in putrid bloody hate.
Then, father seems to snap.
He's still alive but worth as much as the dead now.
Seeing him broken, mother is bathed in mechalony cerulean.
Close to shattering but keeping it together for me and brother.
I wish I could help her, yet I have so much burden already.
There is no helping father anymore.
He is lost in his boiling cloud of hate.
Honestly, I'd rather be dead than what father has become.
Every day is a misery.
If I make it out alive I feel that the stench of fathers hate will never leave me.
Every day, I take longer and longer flights out into places where no emotions can bombard me.
I'm fading though.
My protection is stuttering.
Flickering into shadows.
If this purple smoke weren't here, her lavender and mauve protection hovering around, brother would have tipped off the edge a long time ago.
I feel like i'm failing.
The shadow is trying to consume me as well.
A haze of vermillions, sienas and lime rush past me.
If only I had died before I was hatched, I could have been happy.
YOU ARE READING
Whiteout
Spiritual(cover art not mine) What is whiteout thinking? How does she really see the world? Emotions never let go, never. The moment they touch you, you'll have them forever. Even death can't seperate you and your emotions. And... That's why whiteout fears...
