Bare With Me.
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- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Apr 8, 2020
I can't see. Why can't I see? Why can't I hear? Why aren't my senses working? I don't feel nothing, absolutely nothing. Where am I? I hear a voice.. "Open.." Where is this coming from? "Open your-r-r.." Huh? "OPEN YOUR EYES!" SNAP. All white all around but I can feel my sense coming back as my eyes readjust. Once my eyes settle I look around and see I'm in my room in my bed. All I can feel is pure anxiety coursing through my veins. I'm soaked,
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#13
slowlydying
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The bedroom holds sacred territory for me. The bed, its altar. One upon which I've offered sacrifices, so many to count and recall. One upon which I currently lay as I once more pay my dues, in taps and clicks. I miss the days when the gods were content with the strokes and curves of the fluid dispenser. They seemed to have joined the fast-lane train, and thus demand new meals. While I lay down and hit the keys with a mystic rhythmic sway, I hear the sounds as they hit my ears. No. They're not forceful. Not now, at least. Like music from the slow strumming of a guitar, these sounds bring messages. And memories. And musings. And a medley, sometimes. And so it is, that I'm made to scribe. For when gods speak, their words are immortal. Oh. Wait. They're just thoughts. I thought as much.
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