Pisaries Creator

All it took was one large mouth to open wide, and she was swallowed whole. Her demise was only understood by the people who have nightmares during the daytime. The triangle within her could not be tamed. She had gotten the urge long ago as a child to be different and because her mother encouraged this deviance, once it infected her veins, there was no looking anywhere but forward. Only once in her lifetime had she thought about erasing this part of her. This was futile. She kept coming back to this deviance and each time it reminded her how ugly certain pieces within her had turned and would stay as long as she drew oxygen, polluted or not. This vileness didn’t care what she thought of it. No amount of scrubbing of her skin with the toughest of sponge would create pores large enough for any of it to escape. She was what people who didn’t understand her called a misunderstood pariah, and during that time of her life when I knew her, she would try to convince others her soul could be saved and must be saved. If her soul was that dark, her mere existence was the dirtiest trick ever played on her outside of being on a playground full of children who secretly wanted her dead. She didn’t want any more problems. The biggest issue was no one was willing to help her get closer to the solutions. They may not have worked but it would’ve been a start. All she desired for was a start, but no one was willing to give her that courtesy.