Muse’s Revenge
There’s a war in my head…
All I did was get a typewriter , I didn’t know it was involved in a murder. Now I hear its voice screaming in my eans past 9 pm. I don’t understand why it hates me, what did I do wrong?
I can’t tell what it yells at me for, but I know it’s unfair.
I can’t touch her, she’ll bite me, but will scream louder the more I leave her alone. Some nights I can feel fingers grazing under my skin, other nights I feel like my lungs are clogged.
The days are not much better, with the typewriter herself will not be in the same room every monning, especially when I can’t breathe the night before. She doesn’t stay still either, moving from room to room throughout the day, with her favonite room being my bedroom… In my bed. Why? I don’t know, but she gets especially mad at me when I remove the covers to pick her up.
I try to compare her to an old cat, but is she really? She feels worse than one, like much worse. I wish I could figure out why, I really do, yet whenever I try she makes me bleed.
I wasn’t intending to attack myself, though I couldn’t take it anymone, so I grabbed my metal bat.
XXXX
A loud crash bellows across the flat. A thump following suit. Red and black mix between two quiet bodies. Smoke filling the room surrounding them. However, like a pheonix, one of them rises from the ashes. Who would it be, man or machine? The answer should be obvious, don’t you remember who survived the first time?
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