Her

Lately She seems indifferent to my presence. Just sits in the corner, raking Her nails on the ground, eating maggots off the floor, casting occasional glares in my direction. I lie in my own filth, blood mixed with grime, oozing gashes and rotting flesh. I suppose She has accepted my residence in Her domain, ignoring me for the most part, except for when She needed a hit. And when she was bored.

At times when i catch my breath after long bouts of hacking, i feel Her nails on my face, digging into my flesh. And yet it feels more like a caress than pain being inflicted. I almost welcome it.

I hear nothing except for Her breathing and my own rasping lungs struggling to inhale through the burning pain in my throat. But why? For what? Who would care?

Why do i try to breathe? Why do i wake up? Why do i continue to exist?

Sometimes i hear Her hum. It sears into my brain, making it writhe. I welcome that too. I welcome anything besides numbness. Being numb was fine for a while. But then it started to feel like forever. I need to feel something, anything, to feel alive now. Even if it is agony.

Sometimes i wake up to find Her feeding on me, Her deranged eyes justifying Her lack of mercy. I feel i understand Her now. So i lie in silence and watch her feed.

The Pit has come alive, transforming into a maze from which She emerges after long periods of absence. I long for Her return whenever She leaves, sometimes slithering, sometimes skipping, sometimes crawling on all fours. Depends on Her mood, really.

She would leave looking like Herself and come back looking like i did, whenever i used to crawl up there. Somedays She would return cradling leaves in Her hands. That always makes me smile. And somedays She would return with long tales of Her exploits.

Apparently no one seems to see Her like i do. No one seems to notice that Her eyes are not mine.

Most days She would return with slumped shoulders. She'd sit beside me, coo at me like i'm an infant in her care. Her eyes remained the same, though. Demented eyes that saw me as something She had loved and lost long ago. Something that had driven Her over the brink of sanity. I cry for Her. I've realized that i am all She has now.

Whenever i beg Her to end it She would slap me, Her long nails cutting into me, Her piercing voice screaming incoherent words into my face. Took me a while to decipher her wails. "I need you. I need you."

But i wish She would understand that my release would also mean the end of all Her suffering. I wish that someday She would grasp the truth of that and do us both a favour.

And so i lie here, my veins filthy and my skin flayed. And i wait.