Muse 83: Heels

found via weheartit

This was her secret past time; he was her secret way to past time. He kept the key underneath the carpet, but she never touched it until he went away. Each day she stroked the ridged ends, wondering if she should take the risk, and when she did, the interior shocked her. The beautifully adorned room had the loveliest wallpaper pattern. One could spin and become dazed, lost in the maze as it lead her straight down to the bedroom. Curiousity wrecked her mind as she danced around the edges, afraid to see what was inside. Today was the day, the time, the day to discover what was inside. The dark was encroaching upon her, from behind and in front, and she looked in, gasping. She fled quickly, forgetting to lock the doors, to wipe away her mark, as she ran back into her house. Leaning against the safety of her door, she couldn't help but feel a little jealous of the bonded woman who had no feet to run.

Muse 33: Catatonia

found via Nick Gentry

Her catatonic eyes hold my gaze and I feel it piercing through my retina, down the very center where there are no veins, no vessels, no chance of dripping blood or pain. I grow rigid, frightfully so, as a slow beating overtakes every pore of my body. Keep my eyes on her, keep my eyes on the goal and never look away, I chanted devoutly, knowing that once my eyes shift, the silvery needle will not break, only move into the flesh that can bleed and stream red tears from these eyes.

Muse 11: Hot Like Fire

While the moments were dutifully reminisced through hours of replay in the dark cavern of her mind, she suddenly remembered that someone once said, "Nothing of me is original. I am the combined effort of everybody I've ever known." And somehow that was how she understood that love is nothing but a composite of feelings. Nothing of love is original. It is agony. It is joy. It has purity; it enforces evil. It multiplies while decreases. It is hot and cold. Easy and difficult. It is when you fly through the sky on wings made of wax, trying to reach the sun because it burns so beautifully. She whispered right before she fell asleep, "Love is sweet, sweet masochism. " No one has ever survived flight except those who don't return.

Muse 7: Paper Heart

flickr medical museum

She wanted to cut out his heart, and he was going to let her do it. She wanted to have a piece of him for herself, and he didn't mind that she was going to take it. And she started, she started cutting along the dotted lines that she envisioned on his flawless body, until she realized that the shape she was cutting was all wrong. So she stopped halfway, letting the blood run out in perfect streams of tears as he begged her, wondering what was wrong, to continue, to take his love. With a blank look, she blinked cruelly and said, "I thought I wanted it, but not anymore."