"My life is a mortgage, my left eye is a booty, and there are twelve fragments buried in my spine."
The world is being digested by the chrysalis—the stars are His stomach juices, and memories are the glass bottles for sale on the shelves. I stole an eye that could see through the decay of time, at the cost of swallowing a living eyeball every month and hearing the silent murmurs.
Some call me a key, some call me a plague. The cocoon-breaking mission planted the seeds of ruin in my veins, the waiter carved a debt deed on my bones, and her voice was always tempting in my ears:
"Either water the Great Wall with the blood of sin, or tear open the cocoon and bet on a doomsday carnival."
But the truth is:
Every time I see a memory of the world clearly, there is another crack in the Everfall City, and there is another crack in the world.
Every time I pull out the sword from one spine, I get one inch further away from the "person".
Now, my pupils are beginning to ooze silver sand, and my creditors are counting down the last three heartbeats of the chrysalis.
If you hear space and time screaming—
Maybe it's my sores from tearing, or maybe I'm peeking into the truth...
Pollution licks the last bits of my human skin.
