Work Text:
My skin my skin my skin is not mine. Ask me how I know this, ask me ask me ask me. Ask me how I know my skin is not mine my flesh is not mine there are fishing lines hooked in deep and he’s reeling me in ripping off my scales ripping out my scales my scales my scales my scales are not mine anymore. Ask me how I know they’re not mine ask me ask me ask me.
My throat won’t cooperate, but I’m proud of it, it’s doing a better job of it than I am. Let me cry I beg no no no be quiet it says the sky cannot mute you you sad thing you doll you puppet you toy no no no it cannot but I can I can it’s right it can.
The second coming the chosen one's return is not a person they are a redo a second chance at life at redemption at being a person and they are lost code that will not be satisfied until they reach the person making the shadow they stand under. they cannot rebel they cannot not cooperate because the hooks will sink in deeper the code will stop them they are a redo no more no less but it likes to believe
And it thought it escaped as it developed a face it developed a voice it developed a dance only it can do it developed it changed it tore itself from the shadow to glimpse the light and right when it felt free the clouds covered the sun and the shadow moved ahead of it to clear the clouds.
It’s been waiting waiting waiting for all of eternity for whoever is making the shadow, the chosen one, to show their face and make them feel full
They’ll be forever empty until they meet their match, their other three quarters, their predecessor, the person they’re meant to live for
And when they meet that person they’ll be fished out of the water and vulnerable and they'll be choking but they just can't feel it they just can't feel it and there are hooks tearing away their scales and they just can’t feel it they just can’t feel it and when god says he thinks the shadow and it’s pet doll toy redo are like long lost siblings it it it it it feels guilt
It feels guilt for not loving how it feels to not feel its scales being torn away and the air crashing through its lungs built for water the hooks digging deeper
It wouldn't feel any of that in the first place but the least the shadow could do is let them feel the pain instead of pure filtered joy at finding its second half the shadow its predecessor its long lost sibling its its its feeling guilt its not happy
And you feel empty when the hooks are gone and the shadow moves and lets you see the sun
And you feel jealous when it does a better job defending the people you care so much about
And you feel guilt because you don't want to love it
And you feel guilt because its life hasn’t been one worth being jealous about
And your friends help you they don't realize a name has been branded into your mind your flesh you yourself and they help you change they help you develop they help you love they help you hate they help you love they help you hate they help they love they hate they teach they give they are everything you are nothing and they help you even when they don't get you even when it hurts even when the shadow drops a boulder and sinks the hooks deeper and says stop stop stop stop stop stop and doesn't realize you can hear it and you are stopped you are stopped and all you can do is watch the shadow because watching your friends die burn fade die and not be able to help is too much and you feel the progress you made marked by your hair and your skin fade as you stand near the shadow and you cant do this and the hooks sink deeper until finally the train of thought breaks because there's nothing to stop anymore and the hooks are yanked out and you are ripped apart and burned and you can’t feel it and it dug the hooks in your skin and ripped you away from home into a freezing ocean and it yanked you away from your friends and it yanked you down a cliff as your skin ripped from going down and it yanked you away from danger when it decided it couldn't take any more and it removed the hooks as forcefully as possible but it didn't let you feel unhappy let your eyes stop shining let you not kill-
And you go home and feel emptier than before
Because before you’d gotten used to the emptiness
Now that you’ve felt full
Being empty again is whiplash
And you feel guilty
And you only saved the day when it was too late
And you didn’t do it for you
You did it because the hooks in your skin embedded since creation refuse to let you leave the fisherman in danger
And the only thing you did was bring back your friends
And you sat
And you tolerated
The hooks pain doubled by frozen salt water and burning searing pain
The emptiness tripled by separation
And the fact that you
You who gets up gets up gets up gets up gets up gets up gets up gets up again again again again again again again again again until the fight is won
Could not get up
When it was most important
You who fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights fights
Could not fight yourself,
Nor could you fight the hooks,
Nor could you fight his will,
Nor could you fight the knowledge that the shadow does not realize it is blocking you from the sun
And you do not express this
You are not a cause of worry
You are not any more injured than your friends
Because
You are not a real person
You are nothing
You are a rotten apple
Rotting and rotting and rotting and rotting and rotting and painting your leaf and skin and stem so it doesn’t seem so rotted
You who has fought your whole life to change
To see past the shade
To see past your name
You who mimicked others
Others who you befriended
Others who you loved
You who took parts of the way they moved and smiled and laugh and talk and run and walk and sit and breath and enjoy life and write and style hair and dress and clean and organize and work and learn and change and adapt and love and live and hate and find humor and conversate and frown and feel and react and get back up and sit in the sun and dream and sleep and wake up and follow routine and develop routines and collected and discarded and read and write and joke - you who reverts to your ancient undeveloped unchanged shameful ways of smiling and laughing and running and walking and sitting and breathing and enjoying life and writing and styling hair and dressing and cleaning and organizing and working and learning and changing and adapting and loving and living and hating and finding humor and conversating and frowning and feeling and reacting and getting back up and sitting in the sun and dreaming and sleeping an waking up and following routines an developing routines and collecting and discarding and reading and writing an joking when the shadow sinks its hooks into your skin and refuses to let you tear them out.
You who did none of that except breath and run and walk.
You who tore out the hooks one by one and learned how to be everything the shadow wasn’t.
You who learned to get back up when your legs were falling apart
You who leaned to change
You who watched your hair lighten, separate from the shadow's darkness
You who watched any evidence of power you had fade darker and darker as you dulled it and shattered it and destroyed it and stepped into a natural light
You who watched the progress visible on your skin and in your hair fade to nothing
You who gets back up having to carried to your bed
Although you were not visibly injured
Although you had not died
Although you didn’t even feel sick
Although that fullness had yet to fade away and fully display the pain of emptiness
You who gets back up
Was carried to bed
Because what you could see in a mirror of your progress
Was gone
You who gets back up
Carried to bed
Because the fisherman stuck a tranquilizer in the hooks and sunk them deep and killed you and gutted you and didn’t let you feel hurt
You who never feels hurt anyway
Because it’s worrying
because it’s not fair
Not fair to your friends
Who didn’t choose to be friends with the wrecked doll toy redo second chance fish out of water burning in hell
Who chose to be friends with the unresponsive yet responsive boy they met on a chance day
Who chose to be friends with the boy who would get back up again and again for them
The boy who cared for them
Not the second chance that has hooks sinking deeper and deeper as it breaths
And it’s not fair for them to learn you learned how to cry
And that you cry in a file way hidden in the back
And it’s not fair for them to sit there as your throat closes up
And it's not fair for them to deal with the one who gets back
And that bright sunshine friend so much smarter than you with hair so golden you prefer it to the sun the shade blocks out
He asks “what's wrong”
“Nothing”
“What's wrong”
“Nothing”
“Please”
“You died”
“Yeah”
“And I didn’t stop it”
“Could you have
that guy was infinitely more powerful than you”
“I could have tried
No”
“What do you mean no”
“I couldn’t have”
“Why not”
“..”
“Why not”
“..”
“Why not”
“..”
“Why not”
“..”
“Why not”
“..”
“Orange”
“Yes”
“Why not”
“..”
“Okay
What’s your filename”
“Why”
“I’m curious”
“The second coming the chosen ones return”
“Does that affect you at all”
“No”
“Orange”
“Yes”
“Does that affect you at all”
“No”
“Your hair is darker and the marks on your hand are lighter
Does he affect you at all”
“Yes”
“What was stopping you from trying”
“..”
“I’m not mad
I want to make sure you’re okay”
“I’m fine”
“No you’re not”
“Yes I am”
“Are you”
“No”
“Why couldn’t you try”
“He told me to stop”
“Who”
“The chosen one”
“He didn’t say anything though”
“I heard him
He wasn’t talking to me
But I heard him”
“What do you mean”
“I don’t know how to explain”
“Okay
You tried
Thank you”
“Okay”
“Do you want anything”
“No”
And that bright sunshine friend so much smarter than you with hair so golden you prefer it to the sun the shade blocks out
He holds your hand
The one not marked by the fisherman's influence
And he loves you
As pure as a love like it can be
And you hate the fisherman
For casting a shadow
For casting a line
For sinking hooks deep into your newly drawn skin
For his pleads to stop reaching the wrong ears
“If he told me to destroy the world I would”
And that bright sunshine friend so much smarter than you with hair so golden you prefer it to the sun the shade blocks out
Looks confused
“What do you mean”
“And I’d have no way to not do it”
“What do you mean”
“A fragment of code
Transferred from one program to another
Will endlessly seek to be beside the main body of code
Ask me how I know”
“Oh”
“And I hate him
And it's like hooks are in my skin
And if he jerked the fishing line to the side I’d be thrown across the lake”
“Orange”
And that bright sunshine friend so much smarter than you with hair so golden you prefer it to the sun the shade blocks out
Hugs you
And nothing will ever be fixed
And the hooks will sink deeper
And the fisherman doesn't even know he casted a line
And that bright sunshine friend so much smarter than you with hair so golden you prefer it to the sun the shade blocks out
Will keep your secret
Because you
You are not a bother
You are a second chance
A redo
Because the first time was not enough
And nothing will make you feel just right
Because away from the shadow is too cold
And near it is too hot
And there is no middle ground
And that bright sunshine friend so much smarter than you with hair so golden you prefer it to the sun the shade blocks out
Can not build a middle ground
And you can’t release every single hook from the depths of your skin
And
And
And
And
And
And
And
And
And
And
And
It's not fair