there is another world beyond the line where everything is clay
everything is as it is here but its just made out of clay
clay dogs. Clay tables. Clay people
that have lives made of clay
everyone leads the same lives that are just as rich. Clay lives
nobody cares that everything is made out of clay; the clay is well enough for the clay people
over there was a clay girl with
horrible teeth
when she was young her teeth werent terrible
but now she knows her teeth are terrible
ever since, she only became more afraid
afraid of clay dogs, afraid of clay tables, afraid of clay people
she looked at her hands and she looked at her teeth. She couldn't believe that she was just clay
She feared the clay. wherever she walked, she saw the clay that made up everything
she wanted to tell the other people, but she couldnt explain it. The clay was all there ever was, everyone was fine with that
wherever she walked, she wanted to dig her nails deep into the clay and peel back each layer.
Rip through everything, until she could run her hands over something more. she wanted to dig in the walls.
She wanted to dig in the tables.
She wanted to dig in the people.
she couldnt sleep at night
Because what if there only was clay?
And past the clay is an all-consuming nothing; impossible to even interpret?
she tried to tell anyone else but they didnt want to talk about it. they Sobbed for their wives
the clay girl walked far away.
she walked deep into the clay trees, hoping she'd turn into one of them.
she caught her foot on a stone and fell seventeen feet down a sharp incline
she held herself for a moment and enjoyed the sensation of her head swimming
she rolled her eyes in circles until she caught them on a nearby stream
she crawled on all fours towards the water and came right up to it's edge
"all there is is you"
"nobody is coming to save you.
The clay of the world is there for you to mold.
Initiate the slow roll; nobody wants to touch your heart unless you make them"
it caught in her chest, and she couldn't breathe. she sobbed for her life. sobbed for her clay wife that could be.
sobbed for clay friends that shared her face. sobbed for all the people she could know.
sobbed because this is all that she wanted.
And it would never happen.
Because her greatest desire was to desire nothing at all.
she stood on the bank, and made her way to the center of the stream.
the water was calm as it carried her away, slowly all around
it peeled her clay skin off her clay muscles. it weathered all of her muscles off the bone.
it snapped the clay bones into fragments, until it all was dissolved in the stream
nobody ever saw her again, despite searching.
she never knew anyone would bother
Some see her in the clay trees, others hear her dance in the wind, others see her as birds coming to rest on their shoulders.
But she isnt any of this. her wanton departure surrendered her to oblivion. She wasn't anything anymore.
She finally had her answer, but couldn't tell anyone.