Rivers of Crimson

I feel everything, but my body is truly limited, as it can only show so much. The embodiment of pain, so much pain, has become a mask of obsidian that has leeched into my skin. Layer after layer it builds, almost as though it is shielding me from the arrows that try ever so hard to see me bleed.

But can't you see?
Can't you see how day by day I crawl ever so torturously closer to the bearer of the bow?
Let me be. The thing is, pain is all I ever want to know, but it is something that I won't ever feel again. Please let me embrace it's consequences one last time, I terribly need to see rivers of crimson flow.

- Zizzy M.