It stands in the reaching hands of green grass, a little house that weeps in the wind and whines from my bearing. The sound of my own weight is unfamiliar, the torture beyond my own skin unknown. I recognize only the muted flow of ignorance as the dream swallows me into obscurity. My memories run circulatory as the walls cave in. They heave in rejection, but are forced to digest what I am. All my sins are documented and piling in the backroom with the newspapers. Every vice splits open a new wound until the fleshy smell of rotting wood penetrates the dream. I’m compromised, my sliver of hope slipping away. My hope that this is where I am supposed to be. That I am not a beast intruding, but a child coming home.

There's your beginning, your end,

and here’s your middle

spilled onto the road and

painting the vehicle of fate as

it drags you cross country,

trailing itself with your blood against the wheels.

Here’s your middle,

your flesh tongued and chewed in my mouth.

I suffer through the heady and needy

absorption of one soul into another,

the raw consumption of your worth into my own.

And later, you’ll appear in the wounds I achieve.

you crawl into the mouth of the full moon

it’s light tongues you softly

and you feel it’s presence

a looming entity waiting

to swallow you whole

others would be frightened

but you’re forever planted

in a nonchalant resolve

that sucks you into the sand

underneath the cool light

so fresh and tasteless

like a glass of water

your mouth opens and

you tongue the light gently

you’re eager to swallow it whole

Alt title: You know how when you go to bed and dream that you died in your sleep ?

She calls me by name, and suddenly I am lucid. The obscurity of my dream fades away as my cognizance seeps in.

She knows me well and has known me all my life. When she speaks, her voice spills into the air like smoke, hissing into my ears and riding the electrical path of my spine. Clear, stern, and wanting. I divine her mien immediately.

What is left of the false reality tears away. No more obscurity to muddle through, no AU to be lost in. She summons me to a blackness I’ve never known. A darkness so palpable, I fear if I open my mouth, it will gush heavy and viscous into my lungs, suffocating me.

She puts me in this vacuum because I need to be ostracized. After all, fear grows like mold in our loneliest moments, and she knows all I need is an eternal night for my fungus to thrive.

Her voice is perpetual, a low hum of appetency that slithers into my pores.

I declare her as Death, the most formidable force on earth, and she laughs at me. I sense the mold spreading by her saturated sounds of cruelty. It manifests a dreadful realization.

The Reaper has no taste for torment. It only has one purpose–to transfer the soul.

Where have I been taken? To whom have I been given?

The mystery of her is enough to repulse me, but there is no relief in my resistance. She enters my compromised entity, and we connect in vain. We are neither equals nor complementary—just oil and water in a shaken bottle...

...No. We are unsullied predator and prey serving a higher purpose. The purity of our union substantiates a simple truth about humans.

I sense her infiltrating my past, triggering a visceral remembrance of the lowest moments in my life. They are all connected by a common silver thread endowed with my blood—fear. I see every chance I’ve avoided, every opportunity I’ve turned down, every decline to follow my dreams to continue a life of wallowing and wishing for everything to be easier. I determined that the weight of failure was too much to bear, so I wasted my time. I gave it willingly to Her. My allegiance was my greatest sin.

Now I reap my sowings in our companionship. Now I will learn what it means to be truly afraid. As her slave, her eternal meal, her unwilling life source, I will come to know an unending terror that was once beyond my comprehension. I will face an old evil that we only find in traces in our minuscule, finite world.

I will be an unadulterated force that exceeds nature, intertwined with the crudeness of infinity.

I will never be free of my regrets, but I will know a twisted liberation in Her predation.

I dreamt that the world opened up, and I was swallowed down its fiery throat.

I melted slowly in its bloody flames.

I waited to be born again,

and once I was, I waited even longer for you.

You and I were bound in fresh new skin

with crystal clear veins running like streams to a purified cognizance.

You were a new bloom of fleshed terrain,

and I yearned to flower into you with fervor.

I dreamt that we united in a fog of innocence

where I was amidst your warmth,

yet still chilled by my past as mindless magma,

walled away from freedom, and thousands of feet below you.

I dreaded the future even in your presence,

immune to the safety of your flesh between me and mine between yours.

I awaited the winter of our meet

when our bodies would wilt, and the petals of us would fall.

My dread would reach its end, the means etched into my soul.

Despite the trauma, I’ll realize the tragedy of the earth’s close.

I’ll yearn for the nightmare that was its bellowing flames.

I’ll wait for my rebirth and its accompanying pain.

Until then, I am just half of our whole.