a dying world of screaming hands (where’s your role in this tragedy)

Tell me a story - tell me a story about a girl who stole all the night stars with her hungry, starved hands and stuffed them in her mouth so that she could feel some warmth  (in this cold, cold world)  it would fill within her and she would be a pot of golden happiness, like the all stories she heard - but instead (because nothing is ever easy) a burning, blazing (ugly, blood-spilled) fire razed her as her teeth bit into the stars

  She had released a monster in a quest to quench her hunger (how far will you for yours, how much blood will you spill till this life enough, satisfactory) 

(how far will you go, to defy death and bring her back)

Tell me that story about the girl who begged for the fire of the stars and instead - was consumed and her world was left to scorch with the fire of the stars that burned with the force of a hundred suns ( blinding white-hot) weight against her throat (they said one drop would save her; they said one drop and you can save her but the rest world of the world burned in your haste, your desperation)

(but i just wanted to save her) (it’s not fair) (she was never supposed to die now… not yet) 

(but oh dear, when is ‘yet’ ever gonna come) (you can never be ready for death) 

And now, look at you - (was it all worth it)?

She’s - (I’m) drowning in hollow black that steals breath with bony (sharp-sharp) soft hands; ghost hands made of ash of burned stars (that you stomped under your feet) (she’s gone and no one’s gonna listen to your wish) and spilled-blood of darkness (the depths your willing to drown to),  it grabs and takes, takes, takes till - there’s nothing left but open mouths and white screams and a world of white (they said, they promised) (oh, but you knew) (they were lying, dear). White, White, White. Everything turns white. Leaves you aching and bereft, a type of hunger existing in your bones - slowly killing you inside out. 

(somewhere, far away there’s a crack, dark laughter) (you can feel it’s sharp ripples of glass in your feet) 

She can’t explain in words but each parts of her (me, me) aches. It cries out - for something - for - for – love. It screams till there are only words. 

(she is gone, gone, gone) 

Your vomiting on words, on words that leave your mouth in acid and leave it raw-raw red (you want rip from your throat). It fucking itches and no matter how much you fucking try to wash off, no matter how much you try to drown that disgusting feeling in his kisses (swallow the guilt, dig your nails into the meat of it)- no matter how you try to crush it under the force of his teeth, in the heat of his mouth. It persists and fucking haunts you. 

You Made A Mistake. And Now You Have To Pay (dig, dong the devil is knocking at your door)   

   _ make your choice now, girl what is gonna be? 

                  (what are you gonna murder today? hearts on silver plate aren’t the fashion now)

You kiss him desperate and hungry but when night comes and the world is silent and the stars’ fire burns down - you can feel it, the red-acid disgusting feeling (it always fucking comes back). It crawls into your dreams (nightmares) and you wake up with bruised black under your eyes and everything burns. (so bright it’s too much, you can’t. you can’t) (STOP)

I can’t breathe. Yes, you can. No, I can’t. I can’t fucking breathe. I can’t. You can. I can’t. (help me - please).  

There’s something crawling in your heart, darkness imitating hands buried in your heart filling everything with night stars that burn sharp-bright and you can taste the stinging black blood at the back of your throat.

Like panic, like yearning - like hands. Hands. Hands. 

and you (I) hate - it. I hate it. I hate it. So damn much. (she’s dead. the world’s dying and you gotta pay up) (crave out your soul and offer it on a silver plate and don’t forget the spices of want, desperation, hate to add flavour) 

Sharp blue eyes in darkness and cold, cold bone hands. “Where is my payment, girl.”

Blood, blood sharp in your mouth, ”Fuck you.” Pause. (Terror looks you in the eye.) “And it’s Jay, you fucker.”

A last smile and twisted laugh and you fall, fall. 

.

.

.

Was it all worth? 

Yes.