✧ * . Fʅαʂԋҽʂ σϝ ƚԋҽ Dαɾƙ . * ✧

✧ * . OႦʂƈυɾιƚყ . * ✧

I'm 

not 

real.

I know I'm not real.

I'm just a figment of their imagination.

But yet..

They believe I'm real.

How?

I want to ask,

How am I real?

Do you not see them?

The long, spindly spines that line my vertebrae,

the thin, razor-sharp claws protruding from my hands,

or the pointed fangs poking from my jaws?

What really do you see,

other then this obscurity?