001

A slave to gravity amidst a bottomless well, I yearn for the comforting arrival of solid ground.

Trapped by the shackles of my own mind, a prisoner to the infinite black of existence. When I stare into it, a face stares back at me — a tear glistening in his eye. He is my greatest enemy and my closest friend, debating me on insignificant intricacies whilst taunting me with tantalising visions of power and lust. I go to take his hand, only to end up praying to the one I despise most.

Again, I wander into the forest of the night, but it is just a garden. A gentle river meanders along my skin, clean enough to bathe in but too salty to drink. White sand caresses me, whispering in my ear as she slips beneath my feet, a servant of time and harbinger of corruption. Left alone in the glass vault, I peer out to see my protectors, or were they my captors?

Why is it that the killer never removes their mask, for I only wish to see if they smile at the last breath. It is not the final nail in the coffin that seals one’s fate, but the first. Silver teeth clutch at my ankles, desperate to drag me into the pits of despair, perhaps where I have always belonged. Only then does the crimson poison flow, its divine sweetness heaven to my senses.

With quivering hands I unwrap the Gift of Life, but all I receive is a Curse of Conscience. The ribbon around the bed of thorns can’t stop me from laying my weary head. Dreams meld into reality. Awake, but the nightmare persists.

The devil sings a lullaby but I still won’t sleep.

Maybe death was shy tonight.

Scream, shout, cry as I might, not a single note passes my lips. A tunnel bare of light at beginning or end pulls me further still. See me. Feel me. Hear me. I make the same mistake for the final time.

Was I dying to live, or living to die?