#dystheric

the "boy" who grew up in it died nearly 9 years ago

i was the thing that survived

i changed it to fit my desires, i think she would have liked that at least

but it will never be enough

it can't ever be enough

this hollow cage of bone and sinew could never match my form

and yet, i have no presence outside of it

a stranger in the skin i inhabit

a non entity in the mind i share

then what exactly am i?

i can't see inside, if someone else became "host" would i just cease to exist?

maybe that would be better

but then i'd be consigning one of them to my fate, to lose the identity of what makes them real

maybe this is better after all

maybe this is what i'm here for

to bear the burden so they don't have to

not a person

a shield against the horror of unreality

The gender thing was fine, I can change that.

But I will always be without my wings, I'll never fly as I should be able to, the closest I can get is dealing with the metalic scream of a rollercoaster as I'm shoved along a predetermined arc.

I want to glide, to ride the airstreams, I want to bank and soar and spin as my wings guide me where I need.

This plane is, not so kind as to allow that. Even if my wings are their full size where to grow spontaneously today, my body would still be too heavy to fly, my flesh too thick, my bones too dense.

Like, good fucking gods they're so tense and I can't fucking stretch them aaaaaaaaa.

My wings push at my skin.

My claws push as my fingertips.

My form compressed to half its size just to fit in to this prison.

I can feel the blood in my body.

I can feel the beating of the thing that should have stopped centuries ago.

My wings push at my skin.

My claws push as my fingertips.

My form compressed to half its size just to fit in to this prison.

I can feel the blood in my body.

I can feel the beating of the thing that should have stopped centuries ago.

I wish people knew what I felt.

I wish they saw my wings

I wish they felt my hunger

I wish I was myself