When the sun goes up, I come down.
She moved her arms to feel the -ironically- comfy sense the thick black cloth that loosely covered her body gave. A rainy weather, or even better, a rainy weather with thunders to make it more poetic and dramatical would've been nice. But the skies, as if it was persisting, were jet black without a trace of clouds.
Lost in a mob of bodies, only there to show their fake sympathy and wannabe mournings to earn good person points. It was what they were there for.
No one cares until you're dead, they said; but little did they know, your corpse turned into a sanctuary for those plaster saints with blood on their hands and selfishness invading the softest tissue of their hearts. Your soul as their holy water which they used to rub on them to wash away the façade of their wrongs. And after being done with you, they threw your empty shell away like an empty can.
At least they had the decency to put human bodies in trash cans called "coffins", unlike other kinds of trash.
She lowered her head and pulled her hood on her face.
It wasn't going to be the last time that she laughed in a cemetery.
YOU ARE READING
cut it deep
Fantasyfor a long time, humans and monsters had lived in peace. or at least that's what we've been told. - dedicated to @sxftspxkxn and @DragonSwirl -27.03.18 #21 in cyberpunk - 05.06.18 #1 in unnatural - 17.07.18 ~starset - it has begun~
