Devil's Deal

2:02 pm


You know, the thing about loneliness is exactly how they say it is: you don't really feel alone until there's somebody to talk to. Loneliness unwraps its dusty wings only when you begin to silently choke on all the words, on all the poison you're unable to spit out. The moment you can open your mouth and not agree and react and reassure with it, all that tension and spite is gone. Venting, they call it, a way too innocent and clean expression that is so misleading to hear. For you aren't really just exhaling your troubles away, you're twisting and turning and slowly getting impregnated with a thought, then you suffer through a long verbalization and realization period and end it with an excruciating and shaky birth. Even after that you're weak and vulnerable and any said line that may be understood as mildly offensive can wound you to the core. Possible leading to years of healing, simply because you get hurt for being honest. For letting the guard down.

And yet you do, you do go to the friend and occasionally stop nodding and gather all your strength to finally get rid of that demon spawn hatching inside you, eating you away from the inside - And just after the bitter placenta of your horrific insides, you get shot down. You get slashed, right in the face, in your blabbering mouth, stabbed in your trusting heart and tearful eyes. The one you trust misreads you, turns away, trivializes you. They just plain start their own little story. They continue. And your hands shake as you raise them to shield the wound, to at least hide away the blood. Not that they'd see it anyway. They don't look.

And then you either go all defensive and hurt and never let an honest word leave your lips again about yourself, or you choose to embrace your own solitude and spawn your demonic child and befriend it. Should you choose the first, you may continue to enjoy the luxuries of friendship and companionship, all those tiny heart-warming things humans can do for you as long as you keep from getting too personal with yourself. What I mean is, sacrifice yourself on the altar of The People. So you wouldn't be alone. So the people who don't realize you might need to not only listen, but talk, too, keep you by their side. Because they might even love you, they might even believe they do, act like they do, or tell you they do. It's just they don't know you enough to learn how to listen. To not just sit and wait for their turn, but to physiologically alter their ears to hear your words, what you have to say. They may not care enough to learn that. They may not realize they need to. But the outcome is still the same:you'll have to bury you to survive. Should you go down the evil road, the path of the unknown and bestial; should you choose to carve the demon out of your body with pain and tears and blood only you can see, then will relief get to you. You will breathe again, holding your burden in your arms you will be able to draw the night air into your wheezing lungs. And you will look around and there will be nobody on that path save the two of you. You and your demon. And you will feed its tiny body rocks and minerals and dust, until it becomes the unbreakable companion that is from you, that came of your mind and flesh. It will protect you, yes, it won't let a breathing thing come close to you ever again, to hurt you, to touch you. To love you. It will keep the world with all its eccentricities at bay, out of arm's and sight's reach. And even though it will only live on some yellow paper, tarnished and crumpled by the ages, it will be with you forever, keeping you alone. It will impregnate you with more of its kind and you will begin to breed swarms of monsters that live in you and then on their world of paper only you can access. And you will always bleed. You will feel heavy and broken a lot. These demons though, they will chant and curse and dance to provide you with endless numbness and nepenthe, so you would bleed, but not cry as you would otherwise. And you will live.

And should you die one day, they will live on, breeding your mind into the cycle of forever.


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