The River

I am dead to the world.

I am dead to my family.

I am dead to my idols.

I am dead to my doctor.

I am dead to my friends.

I am dead to my loved ones.

I am dead in my eyes.

I am a corpse.

Floating among the reeds of the river of life.

The people stop and watch.

They stare at the grotesque being that flows with them.

They push it away with their coldness.

Their ignorance. Their hatred.

And as I float, the water flows.

It flows through me.

It washes away the thing that makes me human.

I let myself fall.

I fall forever.

The water can't hold me up.

I hit the bottom of the river.

As my cold lifeless eyes look up,

they see the people.

The people laugh at me.

The people talk about me while they think I'm dead.

My soul is still alive.

I see them laughing at me.

I see them trash talking me.

I hear their wicked words.

I hear their lies.

I hear their falsehoods.

My corpse melts away as they float away.

My true self emerges.

The light in my eyes was a being.

A beautiful, deadly being.

Shimmering, dazzling, flawless skin.

Beautiful, deep, soulful eyes.

Wings as wide as my mind.

Hair of pure earthen silk.

Voice of pure beauty.

Nails sharper than razors.

Hands as soft as dawn's light.

It's wings shimmer like a million diamonds.

Its eyes look up and it ascends.

It breaks the surface of the water.

It keeps rising upward.

It ends its ascent when it is too high.

Too high to see with naked occuli.

As it looks down on the stillness.

The stillness of the endless river.

It sees its reflection.

It sees its flaws.

It sees not its beauty and perfection.

It sees how dangerous it has become.

It shuts itself out of life.

Out of joy, out of everything.

It sees what the others see.

It sees a monster.

It sees a corpse.

It sees itself.

It sees me.