ruined
i looked around and saw how others caressed the flowers
the joy with which they were fillled
how bright and colorful they lived
while mine was...
disconnected.

a sense of dread washed over me the closer i got
everything screamed at me though nothing spoke
sharp pains filled my skin till i finally recoiled
pulling my hand away i noticed black smog leaking from my finger tips
i looked again at the flower
in my urgency i didn't realize how ugly it became

i genuinely feel sick and gross. ashamed even. i can't sleep.

My blurry gaze pulled itself to my stained hands which were surprisingly still
Though my vision was unfocused
I could see light reaching out from my fingers
Dripping down my wrists
It was warm.

Though my expression did not once change
I took my fingers and dragged down towards my nose
Down past my lips
Stopping at the base of my throat
I pulled my hand away slowly, flicking my palm to towards the ceiling

the in that moment i looked away
when i turned back the sun was out

Unsure of what emotion his face was meant to convey
He was motionless… almost like a statue
I finally stood up
Warm ichor covered my naked body
Steam rose from my hands, but my insides were… cold…
Empty…
Deafening silence filled my head
“Is this… regret?”

no plea for life, no tears shed. nothing. even faced with death the creature showed no emotion. how disgusting.

the beast was dead. no one cheered nor mourned it's death. it was undeserving of such privileges. instead it departed in a silent sea of apathy. a deafening indifference. i think in the end the creature felt nothing. it passed without any expression.

or maybe it knew too that it was indeed an abomination, undeserving of the gift of life that it so foolishly and selfishly grasped onto. it was with one simple thrust that the beasts frigid yet frantic heart was pierced through. it did not bleed. it did not cry. it was entirely devoid of anything.

Michaelangelo readied it's spear, a golden instrument capable of cracking the planet down to it's core with a simple tap. the creature just sat, accepting it's death. perhaps another trick?

one day an angel named Michelangelo appeared before the god forsaken creature, calling it a mistake, a defiance of God's wonderful creation. it's mere existence was a folly of man's own hubris and thus the laws of nature were to be enforced.

some so deeply that they were left disfigured permanently and emotionally distraught.

while it appeared to be capable of intelligent thought, it was incapable of proper emotion in the human sense, acting off impulse derived from it's wild sensibilities. those who got too close were pricked by it's spines or scratched by it's claws.