Kitty is dead.

Her eyes are the luna-planet shining from her skull. On the new moon days she is blind. She hears inside of the water that fills the air around her and drowns her, but every second she forgets it's there so that she can live for just a little while.

In the shadows above her, he watches her die. He can see the black tumor that was supposed to be a heart not moving in her chest. He reaches out the arms that are long enough to stretch through three dreams and tries to touch her, but the light melts them away. He calls out to her, but Kitty is dead.

Her fingers are still moving because they are spiders and not her. Her eyes are still open, and it's not dark out tonight, so she can see. Inside of her empty torso the cold air takes it's toll, and her ribs slowly expand and contract in the alternating warm of the outside and the cold of her body. He watches her without blinking because he doesn't believe that Kitty is dead. He is a cloud above her and he fancies himself her protector, only all manner of horrors draws near and he can only watch.

Her voice is like Persephone, and she sings in a language he can't understand. The cement cracks in misery around the halo of her head. He watches her almost fall in, but her bone arms still cling to Earth. She swims on top of death with a tail like a mermaid that is really just a pair of lacerations shaped like legs.

The words of people bounce around her and form a pattern that looks like a star, but he can't be fooled. It pins her weakness in place and frames her so that she lies paralyzed. He wants to reach her and take away that pain so that even if she is dead she can float like a goddess, but the light eats away at him when he tries to get close. He tries to wrap himself around the edge of her vision, but no matter where he goes he can't escape her gaze.

He falls into a pocket of silence, and his thoughts begin to grow. They stretch and become a bridge, crushing everything in their way. They fall down, down, down to her until they connect with her and finally he can reach across and then SHE IS THERE -

He picks her up and holds her in his palm, and she is fragile. Her bones snap because she's a dead bird and that's what happens to them after a while. Only then does he realize that Kitty is dead. But he doesn't cry, not one bit. The bridge built by him thinking expands until it eats the world that was made of the calcium from her bones. He settles in where it starts, and his feet become roots and his arms become branches. He puts her in the space in his chest between his swelling lungs and becomes yggdrasil to protect her. His body becomes the world, and inside of him her corpse becomes reality. He stretches and grows into infinity, and she fills it all with a single particle of her existence.

But he forgot about her eyes. He cannot escape the moon. He burns away and becomes ash, and she lies on top of him as still as before. Her corpse is cold and he is nothing, but with that nothingness he feels that cold. He rises and becomes a blanket to cover her so that she will be safe forever where nothing can reach her.

But then the monsters come, clawing at the edges of him. He fights to stay whole, but it's no use. The ashes are ashes and he is less than nothing. She rests naked on the cradle between the darkness and the light, and her spine forms the boundary of day and night. Her face is to the sun, but it refuses to shine on her. Her back is to the stars, but they're just snowflakes, after all.

He looks up at her from beneath her feet. The monsters pry and pull, and eventually she tumbles down like a doll. Her moon-eyes stay bright even though they won't see anything as the monsters cut her goddess-body. Bits and pieces of her drift into the sky, where they become the rainclouds that never rain and blanket the world from the sun that will never forgive it. She is the Mother that wipes the blood from the face of her child.

Yearning rises up in him, and his thoughts become more ashes. But ashes can't stay ashes forever; they have to become something eventually. They become sparks that rise into the air and dance around Kitty, forming a glowing ring around her pale waist and cracked hips. He calls out in every one of them to beg her to look at him, but she can't hear unless it's raining. Outside of eternity he despairs.

Finally one day the moon leaves the sky and she looks down at the mass at her feet. For a long time she only stares while the ash rises again to rejoice because his being isn't void anymore. Then her black holes pour out ink, and it falls down. It rains across him and erases everything, so that the universe is just a blank canvas again.

'The world will be whatever you want it to be.'

He stretches through the whiteness-that-isn't white and becomes himself again, and as he's done she shrinks. He is the darkness and all of a sudden she is lying beneath him in the light from her eyes on a ground of cement that buries her above it.

Watching her, he despairs anew...

Kitty is dead.


Author's Notes: A psychological piece I dreamed up while I was setting up for my parent's vow renewal ceremony. It was dark and I was in the church basement, working, and I was in a strangely needy mood. I kept wanting someone to say I was helpful or well behaved or that I was being a good girl, but they all didn't even look at me. It was the same way at the wedding, but that's a different story. Basically, I started picturing what I would look like lying dead on my back to someone on the ceiling. I knew no one down there would notice, so I wanted to think that SOMETHING would. And then I found myself staring longingly out the windows at the beautiful moon, and the line popped into my head, 'her eyes were the moon, and she could only see on certain nights.' From then on I kept spinning a bizarre tale that spanned (consecutively) eternity and three minutes. Go figure; I was depressed and stressed as hell. It wasn't a good time for my brain.

Please, interpret this however you like. I want you, as an individual, to try and figure out what the hell I was talking about. Even if it's just, 'oh, she was high' you should have your own unique view on this.

Speaking of unique views, mine (which definitely isn't 'right'; it's just my opinion.) is that it's a sort of macabre love story between a god and a goddess. The 'god' is sort of the dark figure who loves the light figure, and the light figure is just a horribly damaged being that continues to exist for unknown reasons. The end could be the repeating of the events in this story, or it could be the beginning of an eon of a miserable 'dark' god.

If you've read thus far, congradulations! I've officially screwed with your mind beyond reasonable belief. Thank you, thank you so much for letting me in to do that critical damage.

As always, feel free to drop a review! I love to see them, and I always respond.