hayleytalks

[hayleytalks]

Mine

A warm goodbye to earth

word count: 558 (teeny thing :/)

I don't really know what else to say :/ This is an original thingy I wrote late at night 'cause I'm sick and can't sleep... If you have anything to ask, request, say or advise just click on "hey! wanna chat?" beacuse I can't turn on my comments lol Btw mitski and/or radiohead are recommended

  ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I stood there, I felt numb, I felt anaesthetised, I felt pain, but not the kind of pain you feel when you scrape your knee, or when you cut yourself with paper, not even the kind of pain you feel you feel when you see the lifeless body of someone you love more than breathing; but the kind of pain you feel remembering it, remembering how much simpler it was when a scraped knee hurt, the pain you feel when you feel when you realise you’ll never get anywhere you want, the pain of learning the world can be a horrible place, the one you feel when all the goodness on earth can easily be overshadowed and taken away by the bad, the dirty, the cruel, the fowl, the real.

 Before me stood humanity, or what once could have been, now only existing in my own mind. If you gazed upon it, you would notice there was not one single thing you could name. Like a dantesque dream, all I could see or feel around me was the burning souls of the damned, there was no screaming, but I could feel it, no ambulance noises, but I could imagine it, no shooting guns, but I could hope; the only sound I could hear, I would notice, was quiet the crackling of fire above dead silence. The sound almost comforting, almost familiar, almost inviting. But not quite.

 My surroundings became warmer and warmer as the flames of an inferno that could more accurately be considered salvation closed in. But I could not feel it. I could only mourn the life I dreamed so feverishly of. I knew I could not have it. Any of it. But it felt almost good to blame it on my current situation. My eyes danced aimlessly over the grotesque painting of agony the world had turned. It was useless, what wasn’t fused to the background was absolutely unrecognisable. Until, that is, they landed on something small, about, perhaps two metres from me; a doll.

 The action of getting closer to it was completely involuntary, background to the melancholic feeling of mourning something that never could have been. But the halt was nothing but of instinct, an indescribable feeling that tied my tonsils and punched my stomach, brought tears to my eyes. My eyes deceived me. Before me stood not a doll, but what once could have been a small child. Consumed by that feeling, my surroundings blurred (or maybe it was the copious amounts of smoke that consumed every atom of oxygen that its tentacles could reach). And an immense feeling of guilt washed over me, ever so strong as the selfish thoughts surreptitiously tried to take over.

 It was selfish. I was selfish. I was seventeen.

 I felt anaesthetised, but I felt alone, I felt like a child lost in the supermarket. And there was nothing I could do but curl my arms around my torso as I cried up to the sky and called for my mum. The sky was empty, but so was I. And screaming, searching for my mother, much like I came into this world, I felt the flames consume me from inside out; starting by poisely luring the oxygen out of my lungs and hugging my goodbye before laying me down to sleep.

   ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[hayleytalks]

A warm goodbye to earth

word count: 558 (teeny thing :/)

I don't really know what else to say :/ This is an original thingy I wrote late at night 'cause I'm sick and can't sleep... If you have anything to ask, request, say or advise just click on "hey! wanna chat?" beacuse I can't turn on my comments lol Btw mitski and/or radiohead are recommended

  ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I stood there, I felt numb, I felt anaesthetised, I felt pain, but not the kind of pain you feel when you scrape your knee, or when you cut yourself with paper, not even the kind of pain you feel you feel when you see the lifeless body of someone you love more than breathing; but the kind of pain you feel remembering it, remembering how much simpler it was when a scraped knee hurt, the pain you feel when you feel when you realise you’ll never get anywhere you want, the pain of learning the world can be a horrible place, the one you feel when all the goodness on earth can easily be overshadowed and taken away by the bad, the dirty, the cruel, the fowl, the real.

 Before me stood humanity, or what once could have been, now only existing in my own mind. If you gazed upon it, you would notice there was not one single thing you could name. Like a dantesque dream, all I could see or feel around me was the burning souls of the damned, there was no screaming, but I could feel it, no ambulance noises, but I could imagine it, no shooting guns, but I could hope; the only sound I could hear, I would notice, was quiet the crackling of fire above dead silence. The sound almost comforting, almost familiar, almost inviting. But not quite.

 My surroundings became warmer and warmer as the flames of an inferno that could more accurately be considered salvation closed in. But I could not feel it. I could only mourn the life I dreamed so feverishly of. I knew I could not have it. Any of it. But it felt almost good to blame it on my current situation. My eyes danced aimlessly over the grotesque painting of agony the world had turned. It was useless, what wasn’t fused to the background was absolutely unrecognisable. Until, that is, they landed on something small, about, perhaps two metres from me; a doll.

 The action of getting closer to it was completely involuntary, background to the melancholic feeling of mourning something that never could have been. But the halt was nothing but of instinct, an indescribable feeling that tied my tonsils and punched my stomach, brought tears to my eyes. My eyes deceived me. Before me stood not a doll, but what once could have been a small child. Consumed by that feeling, my surroundings blurred (or maybe it was the copious amounts of smoke that consumed every atom of oxygen that its tentacles could reach). And an immense feeling of guilt washed over me, ever so strong as the selfish thoughts surreptitiously tried to take over.

 It was selfish. I was selfish. I was seventeen.

 I felt anaesthetised, but I felt alone, I felt like a child lost in the supermarket. And there was nothing I could do but curl my arms around my torso as I cried up to the sky and called for my mum. The sky was empty, but so was I. And screaming, searching for my mother, much like I came into this world, I felt the flames consume me from inside out; starting by poisely luring the oxygen out of my lungs and hugging my goodbye before laying me down to sleep.

   ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ