[They spread their arms, briefly, and let their eyes gape open like black holes. Let the thick dribbles of rot gum their open mouth and flow freely from their pitch-dark irises. They allow their true visage to creep out from beneath that unkempt hair, stinking of long-dead things, of compost, of mold, of dirt.]
[Disgusting, like them.]
I'm a memory of something long dead. I'm an echo of child that was never meant to live this long. I'm a collection of numbers in someone else's life.
no subject
[They spread their arms, briefly, and let their eyes gape open like black holes. Let the thick dribbles of rot gum their open mouth and flow freely from their pitch-dark irises. They allow their true visage to creep out from beneath that unkempt hair, stinking of long-dead things, of compost, of mold, of dirt.]
[Disgusting, like them.]
I'm a memory of something long dead. I'm an echo of child that was never meant to live this long. I'm a collection of numbers in someone else's life.
[Do they look like a monster someone else made?]