tommy-1Whisper

22 / F / English
Cheese Man and the Lunar Mission1. I don’t believe it that the man made of cheese lives on the moon. Last night he crept into my bed, demanding sausages. **** off”, I said, but he wouldn’t leave. He sat, for the rest of the night, on the edge of my bed. A a pair of glowing binoculars in his sweaty fingers, he stared up at the moon. He does want to go there. He says it must be where he’s from. “There’s no food on the moon.”, I told him, my voice heavy with sleep. He began to cry. I told him to go back to his own bed. / 2. I asked the King for permission to leave my bed. He told me “No.”, firmly, so I stayed put. My eyes grew heavy once more, under his spell, and I was back in the grasps of the shadows. They reach through my window in the night, they pull past my curtains and seep slowly into my lungs as I breathe. The King rules the world of the night. I merely beg permission to lay my head to rest. At his feet. I’m not sure this is where I belong, but I can’t sleep any other way. / 3. I lost my fairy wings in a duel with a raven. Taken in by the electric silk of his feathers, I fell into an oil well. My fingers coated, I lost my grip. As my heart beat picked up, panic rising through my oesophagus, I gulped down the thick molten lies. Glinting in the sun, I thought it melted gold. Now I have lost my voice, I realise I was just a fool. I have forgotten how to breathe. The raven’s claws pierced through my skin and as my blood merged with the oil, I forgot where I ended and this pain began.
6
May 4, 2018