CGIgal

scrape the color off the sky like a lotto ticket unwanted paint in a musty room- and the remains underneath your fingernails, are just cold, neon reptile saliva. lift up an old bandaid, it hasn't healed, has it? sickly pale, recluse skin sulking, nihilist grey hysteria of claw, bone, fur the forest now the prey of fire. the aurora borealis in the wobbly knee'd fawn's eyes it was waiting for you, the wilting world welcoming you with it's indifference and now you've awaken in it's obedience.