multiplicity_archives | we walked through the dreams,.in a cal,m conditioning.

soft spoken and broken,.they speak only in a whisper
to each other.
coughing,.one of us thinks she's dying,.and they all think
they will break through the chains every.so.often.
silent,.i watch as the eyes focus,.
blue rimmed with petals of ice,.staring up at the vast grey sky.
cold.,we are so cold,.sitting alone where they left us
.(at the bottom stair,.we will travel our memory palace).
going,..away again.
in the sounds of a violin,.creeping through the darkened floor boards
decayed and speaking.
this girl,..where has she been,.perhaps she never left.
all this changing,.disquises staying the same.
why,.are you so lucky?,.lucky,..girl.
bent backwards through the shadows like an insipid dancer,.
spine is but a string,.hands porcelein and cold,.
tough,.luck,.
watching,.she can look you in the eye,.but can you look b.ack?
kriss kross.
no need to stand.we all bow down in the end.
watch what you say,.she isn't very nice today.
fingers claw at the spazmodic thoughts,.jagged and torn like the arms of a clock.
regressed to the start.
never.again,.will we lose control of her.
X
~Jacqueline/Little Azazel/Machine