Undefined Disorders 2nd Era: Something Waiting to Be Rescued

I can’t move beyond the sentences, sounds clinging to the edges of my mouth hang downward, hitting the ground before they turn into words. soft explosions, the wind from trembling stones in the soil is felt hundreds of miles away.

I can’t move forward, can’t go back — my whole body feels cast in concrete. I’m waiting for a creator, an artist to reshape me. I must see beyond being created, see what comes after — only then, I believe I might find peace with myself.

a hand, a fingertip, a nail that ruins everything it touches, swallows the light — robs me of all peace.



June, 2025 by Demon Ego