The sun has been following me.
It's been burning maps in my back, trying to lead me on the path it thinks I should go.
Day after day, it scorches my skin, and makes sweat drip into my eyes,
I am the atlas of the sun.
I want to be flung into the unknown; the dark and dreadful wild of my subconscious.

I will await my chariot, lavishly laced with the trimmest of trappings,
simply oozing respect and refinement.

The chariot will glide across the sands, and gently lull the world into a hue of dark blues, and purples will pour from my finger tips upon all that I touch.

This eternal desert houses my cruel feast, and I simply can't wait to sink my teeth into their skulls, and let their thoughts froth up onto mine. We will become a united kingdom.

Already I can see myself, immersed in this graceful reality, forever a silver goddess to my minions. They will frolic at my feet, and dance around like children; joyful, with denial hiding just behind their eyes.

Around my hands, they will crawl and roll and jest, all the while running needles into my chest, trying to best me at their foolish games. They think they can have me? They think I will bend to them?

I am under no control. I will sit on my throne and bellow of my crowds like the majestic creature I am. I am on your side, silly beasts. I am your queen, and I will never leave any of you! My blood will run across the walls and stain the bricks so that none of them ever forget that I allowed them to live.

All about my hips, they trip and skip to the shuddering of my skin they so callously cauterized. It's as if they've forgotten I was the one who melded them from my finger nails, and cut ties from my sails to sew them closed.

My hair flips and lifts from my head, while this smoke dream courses through it, dreaming of being seen like it may soon be said that they were my creators. Well, I was the true goddess. I was the only one ready to take a stand for them.

But as they drag me to the guillotine, I realize my delirious season has withered, and I have lost all o their trust. They see me as nothing but flesh to be thrown to the dogs. The blade glints off my eyes, brilliantly silver, like I'd once shone, but they've shown me I don't belong anywhere.

There is a sudden chill. My body becomes cold, and shapeless, and pointless. I lay there sad and ashamed, as the heat leaves my mind, and buries itself in the sands of my ever flowing desert.