Pretending that I am dead is so much better, breathable, and livable.
Except, there's one problem. I have to continue in this tattered shell of a ghost that likes to linger with its mirrors before handling conversations with the ones around who are living there lives as a welcoming presence but for me, it is different.
They think that I'm insane. They're right. It's true. Swords of something so breathtaking that the glass is all that matters, not the spilled blood.
Before we include these things onto the truth as this is a frequently bought thing so confused at the altering of thoughts as I grab onto my own.
"I told you not to corrupt this place," the darkest voice tells me as I see my locker in front of me, and then I sigh and make this engraved, forlorn face at the sight of him in his fake spirit.
Because he doesn't want to be an angel. I don't want to either, but I've had to come to conclusions as to why I cannot even turn over into the flipped gun life that I easily could have lived.
It was until they saw me. They could tell I was right, but mostly darkness doesn't understand. Or maybe they do, and they cannot even voice there opinion in full height.
Evil has a bad reputation. However, mine just starts. "Don't even tell me, you didn't do your homework," I say to him in a laughing matter. "I can't, you know that." I made a rolling eye at him away from him. I stay close to my locker as the books in my arms are filled with the truth.
"This doesn't need to be like this, we can keep searching another way," he looks disappointed at my answer as shallow this was concerning how desperate I was for getting dark beautiful wings.
I couldn't even fulfill these things so insistent that we were seclusive towards the other ways of things so frightening that I told him clearly, I'm still in my human form. So, I must have human natural reactions.
Even if I can't react the way I'd like, it is always exhilarating to see evil at its face of shadow. "I have no reason," it created a deeper darker force upon us, me and Zallen.
They weren't noticing us. The students around, not even the teachers dared not to ask me why I was talking to well, no one.
He isn't anyone. Not in my eyes, to my belief. I looked up towards something so envious, that the book of life has been far from over, it always begins again and again.
This time, they weren't going to hurt them. This time I was going to get those beautiful wings. "I don't need a goddamn halo," I tell him as Zallen is trying hard to ward off the others away so we can talk privately.
"These students won't leave you alone, they never do. What do you think it is that you did?" I shrug my shoulders, disconcerted about this tidbit of useful,
"Seddi?" Zallen says to me in an exclusive and weary voice that we weren't even considering the route for the death of doors to come towering over us in a single bit of a heartbeat.
The whispering, it was back. Again, now that we were sensing the light... a sword so filled with blood in its glorious desire I could tell that these voices were growing louder and louder.
Renaming the voices carefully, I encountered him. Lucifer's son. Radeon.
"Hey, hello," I say to him timidly, he brushes me off as I continue to stare him down in the halls.
I had anything but this crazy idea that we were able to take care of things ever so sweetly in the arms of things like the eyes weary there way into merrier, happier fields but mine is beneath the caverns of oceans.
Now, that we were confused and conflicted, I had to turn towards someone else. This wasn't going to be an easy feat.
It was always the illusion that handled such symphonies inside the mind of something rather prone to death.
It could have been years until they had seen us. It didn't take years, it took a couple of months to finally receive the message.
Once the world got the news, it was like fireworks, cheers. Loud clapping, hugs everywhere. "Something just happened," I tell him. Then I look at him, and he had gone somewhere.
Without so much as the hesitation of thinking through things, it was to remain the ill important way of things that has me confiding through thoughts in ways unknowing that the deepened was occurring again.
The deepened is the place I go to when I am mad, angry, or upset.
I was sure there were loud noises everywhere in the school, but I look at them and this strange thing happens too.
They stopped clapping, they weren't cheering. It was like I went from pale to a pink blush that could have swerved our rides a bit lightly into the depth of something so encouraging that we could have detailed the light after all of our running delusions had been carefully made.
It is the name of things that have been brought into a full closure. Without the stake of something missing but rather the stake of someone.
I could have taken up the higher road, but no. I stay right where I am.
Staying so close to the spaceship of something rather inviting, I could have dived right on in. Except, I didn't. I allowed to see it, that was it. That was all.
No one is making a point. The voices aren't winning. I'm far from being bitten, beaten. It's time to start closing in on a closer future that can hear its armies instead of a nightly crescent fallen angel who appears as the head of the house in its ongoing.