[It's up in the air. Creator in a Blue dress.]

She is coming for me.
Closer.
Breath as clear as day.
Her heart stopping,
Bone grinding,
Lung groping laughter.
I choke on her, struggling.
Through struggle my fate
Becomes clear.
Rina has submitted to the knife,
She swallowed the knife,
Made way for the noose.
Rina has lost this race.
But what is the point when
You have nothing to lose?
And Darien, take a guess on who’s
Pulling the noose tighter.

Crawling.
I follow my rope to the end.
It ends at a cliff overlooking a
Hellish battle field.
Bleeding angels.
Faceless figures.
Bleeding stars.
My rope is in the hands of my creator,
The grasp of my maker.
Blue cotton dress and bleeding mascara,
She smiles a fiendly grin and yanks the rope.
I am ripped into the air.
My feet dangling over the sea of fire.
She laughs.
Chills form in my veins,
Leaving them icy with dismay.
My eyes fade in and out,
I’m not so sure if I’m ready to die.
She pulls harder and I am face to
Face with the guillotine.
My fingers are tightly around the rope
Between my neck and the beast.
My breath is nil my tears are scolding hot,
Like acid.
They leak to my lips,
Ripping the skin,
Chapping and curling the skin,
I cry harder.
I cry blue with sorrow and I
Cry green with envy.
The guillotine speaks to me of worldy blood
And happiness beyond purgatory.
Screaming cold sheets of metal,
Spitting needle stings into my face.
My tears ducts bleed.
My creator in blue cotton takes a curtsy.
And lets go of the rope,
Watching me fall into my endless doom.
I am but a rag doll tossed amongst the vultures.
I am a toy to the demons.
I am but a lost cause.
Rina.
Gritting my teeth to the pain,
I let the creatures tear me to bits.
I let them shatter me as If I am porcelain.
I am She.
I stand on the edge.
Teeter.
Teeter…
Teetering..

.Alyss.
10.8.08