Feign of the coy

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Silence isn't always golden. Sometimes it's nothing more than an overly polished piece of pyrite.

Submitted: May 26, 2017

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Submitted: May 26, 2017



There no longer is the effervescence of this tortured adolescence.

Breach the trust of the coy, forget the boy, I was a little woman's play thing.

Silence was an accidental choice, and no amount of guns could have killed the noise in tiny brain.

Insanity is glorious and blissful, but so is ignorance. Approaching you in a manner unfitting could result in nothing more than a false repent. 

Inactively hating all of you because I was your food. Advantageous or just foolish, breaking the code of honour, you all have been proven ruthless.

I am forever plagued by the time that I spent with you, my knowledge was never carnal, until I realized that is was you. 

The perfect illusionist, but an exquisite oppurtunist. Family was a word, just an overrated term to every wrong right and every right left for dead.

You were all crows preying on a frail carcass, you could have chosen to be carnivorous but it was nevermore said nevermore for that, so dare a crow to commit to committing a murder.

Stopping you was never my objective, but how could it be? My sight did not belong to me, so does that mean I was not myself? Well I am not myself you see, for I have manifested from the dreadful deeds of the trifecta that was in disguise as you three. But fear nothing and fear for naught, I promise to never tell, never tell anyone or anybody.

The result is as it should be, though I wish the pain and misfortune would have spoke in unison and just killed me. I am everything you loved and loathed about your inner selves, place this yellow spined soliloquy on your inner shelf.

You killed once, and sadly I hope you kill again. Give a wondering adolescence a chance to stare back into their penance.

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