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the fear lives in another dimension, like air. Yellow sour sulphur, bearing down, heavy, into dry and drying earth. A drought a drought a drought, drowning in your own sweat if you look too hard. So, don't.
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Every shade of hope, born of an incubator on its last legs, from salvaged eggs from whatever has survived from cycles and cycles of birth and death.
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They walk around, there and not all there. Stubborn, sharp, beady eyes moving quick, darting from point to the next. Beaks sharp, claws sharper. The world is small and fenced in, the worms quiet underfoot. But they have no mind to stop. Some days, they barely have a mind at all.
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Keep your eyes moving, feet moving, beak knocking sense into the earth. Stare at a spot too long, and the beast grows 3 sizes too big and, even with its breaths of rage, melts in the atmosphere. Poof, Gone.
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Play the game like its not real. Raise and Fold, raise and fold.
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🩸🗡️ lavivrus revo lla 🗡️🩸
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