Dameinatrix

That first touch made me flutter. A shy, but oddly hopeful moth, sloppily trying towards the light that had suddenly appeared. The second, the third, the fourth, and my heart gained direction. The light seemed stronger and within reach, yet I came to fear its intensity. Shockingly bright and warm, confusing and disorienting - true to the life of a moth, my coordinates were scrambled. Truer still, I collided with false promise, and burned in misery instead. Scrambling for explanation and that idolized coziness, I only fried worse and worse in my attempts. That final touch wasn’t a bed of roses I so strongly desired, rather, the last w

Help Me I’ve Fallen & I Can’t Get Up. The world is dark, and there is a chill. A cold, cold blackness, that shimmers like corvid feathers, yet they leave my bones unpicked. Where did they go? Where are the angels of death? Their cold, dark, black, shimmering feathers have all faded away, and leave me unrotted. In fear and misery, I feel the dark closing in, sucking in; my paws have gone to the mirrored side. Its ink draws me in like a tar pit. I am left in a frozen pitch, forever to remain here, no crows to guide me home.