Work Text:
There are days when I don’t sleep.
There are days where I’m not awake at all.
There are days where I am not sure what is real,
And days where you cannot save me.
The ocean draws a place for you and me,
a cathedral that sings hymns for delicate ears.
Can you hear it too,
Marissa?
My eyelids split open to see another girl dead at the hands of my father.
Botflies and black mold.
I can feel them crawling, squirming, buzzing beneath my skin.
It’s a terrible sound, Marissa.
I hope you never hear it.
Just listen to the waves,
and wade into the quiet shore.
My father has grown very ill.
I can see the flies before me now.
I cut into our latest hunt,
Pulling her guts for him to take.
It is polite to offer bleeding meals
To such a hungry man.
There are days when I think I’ve caught his illness.
There are days when I scrub the skin from my hands
And dig out the bloodstains deep beneath.
There are days where I never feel free.
As I pluck a rotten, squelching thing
From its blackened nest within me,
I cannot rid myself of the cries of the sea.
I yearn to be the teeth that tear through smothering hands,
At home with the waves like a symphony of blistering storms.
I think I’ll go today, Marissa.
Far away from here.
I want to escape from this boiling, burrowing home
And let myself free from the cage of my flesh.
I want to be with you,
to hear the ocean’s song.
The two of us,
alone together,
forever resting in the deep.
Please, do not consider me unfaithful to take the jump without you.
Yours truly,
Abigail