My thorax is buried under three tons of dreams and memories.
The saccharine virgin turned to the conveniently drunken harlot. Dressing quickly, before he can. My marble bones suffocated by a bag of warm fluid. You can't look while he fucks you, the agony in his eyes is too much.
Hiding, three months under the influence, never waking up.
Hiding, three months spent quiet, shrouded.
Naive dreams turned to dust. Wanting to be so many things but lacking ambition and talent. Resignation to the fact that life will be what it is.
Such a shame to find myself floating, like the jellyfish, carried along by the tide, without a heart or brain.
Such a shame, to wake up an adult. I despise humanity and especially my own.