Wake up at 4 So you can study before They come pick you up And take you to hell’s door

You’ll workout too And count all your calories Don’t call me fat But don’t call me skinny

Its 5:30 now And they’ve picked you up You should definitely sleep But you’ll do the math you forgot

Its finally 7:30 You’ve arrived at the door Open it up stupid, The day has begun

You’ll cram in history And sleep through math You’ll gist in English And dream through your last

Lunch time finally The day’s almost up Make sure you eat some food But not too much

School’s over at 2:30 But I bet you’ll be home at 5 You’d much rather stay at home Too bad, learn or die

You’ll spend the next three hours Of your busy day Working, writing, memorizing For the test that’s half your grade

You’ll finally eat your evening meal And I bet you’ll eat too much You’ve hardly eaten throughout today You’ve been starving pretty much

And you’ll hate yourself like you always do And try to throw it up Too bad your stomach’s far too strong Forcing it is kinda rough

You say you’ll go to bed at 8 But you’ll be up till 2 am Because scrolling on that stupid phone Is all that helps you keep your head

You’ll start your day just the same Like you always do You wish you could break the cycle But your fears are controlling you

I hate how I need you to breathe

Flew too high now I can’t think

Losing sleep

Trying to figure out some things

Set me free but please don’t leave

You’ve got strings wrapped around my mind

You own my life it isn’t mine

The only way to escape is writing lines

But even my lines have you inside

Feels like I’m dead but I’m alive

Control my life and don’t think twice

You can stay in control

I thought this was a happy home

But the underworld is where I’m meant to rome

All I know is I need peace

I need you but you don’t need me

Don’t you see the irony

Relationship all end the same with me

I thought you came to make me whole

But you really came to take my soul

I’ll let you have it take control

My body is weary, but my mind is more so. Should I grant my mind to a paid worker, so that they might fix it? Or should I stay in my home, wondering if the insanity will ever end?

     _—A Tree Comprised of Holloways_


                       [***]

The pie, made by the man, is buttery soft. When the dough melts in my mouth and the apple filling fills my mouth, my sleepy eyes close in bliss.

The man is feeding me, slowly, carefully, scooping up the dribbling pie from my lip back into my mouth. His amber eyes are different though, they are hard, shooting holes into my thin face. My stomach below the covers is round for once; any more bite now and it would explode. I stop opening my mouth, causing the metal spoon to poke my lips. His face turns flat in a second, eyes a void.

“Eat.” He brings the spoon back to my lips. I turn my head away. The man’s strong hand grabs my chin and whirls me back around at a speed that feels bone-breaking. “I said eat, Joan!”

Tears sting my eyes. “I’m full,” I mutter, “I want water.” Short sentences are the best when the man is in this mood.

He stops, face relaxing into a mocking smile. “Oh course you’re full. I make a whole pie—your favorite—for you, and you’re full?” He grabs the half-full pan. “Why do you always waste things?” He stands, suddenly, the chair he was sitting on wobbles before falling on the floor. The man throws the pie to the floor; the soft dough splatters onto the floor and the filling spreads like blood. It gives me a chill down my spine, more so when the man leaves the room muttering to himself.

“Where—where are you going?” I cry, his muttering is getting dimmer and dimmer. I hear the front door open. “——— where are you going!”

                       [***]

_Why do birds fly? Why do wolves form packs? Is the world going to end? Is anything real? _ Why must everything be questioned! Just let the flow of Fate take you in its waves.

     —_La La La_


                       [***]

The sun is too bright, the sky is too blue, and the man left me out on the porch knowing that. But this is supposed to be a punishment.

I saw him lock the door after placing me on the cushioned rocking swing. I can’t move; locked door or not, I can’t get back inside.

So the Sun punishes me for my sins against the man, for my frail body cannot escape even this dim level of torture.

                       {^*^}

Weston Hail

Wandering from your group is hardly ever a good idea when you’re hiking in the woods. So why did I do just that?

“Weston, you idiot, it’s like you’re trying to get yourself killed,” I thump a fist against my head and start walking in the woods, trying to find my way back. The trees are tall, their thick trunks stretching towards the edge of the sky.

Staring at the sky, the sun bright and warm, I see a cloud of smoke hurling into the sky before dispersing to become invisible to the human eye.

A cabin must be nearby if that is here. My steps quicken and I hurry to find someone who could help me find my crew. It doesn’t take long before I see it, but…something seems off. I stop so I can investigate why there’s this malicious aura surrounding the area.

There is a skinny man in my eyesight, impossibly thin and looking half starved. He’s just staring into space from where he sits on the swing on the cabin porch; I’m left wondering what in the word someone like him is doing this deep in the woods.

Now, stalking closer, I see another man through the open window. He’s on the phone with someone, a hand combing through his carefully arranged hair, and laughing.

What an odd pair….

I freeze, feeling a out of eyes on me. I turn, slowly, from where the trees hid me from the cabin. The pale man is staring at me—no, maybe he’s not, his eyes go away from where I hide to turn to the door. His mouth opens and muffled words come out; the man in the window stops his phone conversation, frowning, then says some stuff in the phone before going to the front door.

I bite my lip, my legs going forward on their own accord. I know I shouldn’t snoop on people, but I do really need help. I duck deeper into the bushes and watch as their conversation starts.

“What do you want, Joan?” The man leans against the door frame, seemingly bored. His fingers are twitching on his side.

Joan, the pale man, turns his head around—not the rest of his body strangely—and asks, “Can I come back inside now, H a r o l d?”

I shiver at the strange way he says his name. Obsession and disgust is the concoction of which it is fed. What is happening here?

H a r o l d shakes his head, frowning at the mere idea of it. “I still haven’t forgiven you yet.”

“I’m not full now,” Joan pats his stomach slowly, wincing as he does, “I can eat now.”

The man’s face turns dark. “Can you, now?”

My heart starts speeding up at that, at the way he said those words. “Time to go,” I mutter to myself, crawling backwards to avoid detection. Sadly, that’s not how life wants to go, because as I stand, my foot snaps a branch.

It’s a clean Snap! that has the two men turning towards me. H a r o l d looks like an eagle searching for his prey, and Joan eyes are wide and terrified. His body leans towards H a r o l d for comfort, but the latter man doesn’t offer it.

He’s too busy looking around for me.

Well…I’m running for my life and for Joan’s too.

                     {^*^}

The police station is stale—cold and stale. My friends are all around me, the policemen as well, listening to my story. An officer, who had suited up the moment I uttered my first word, is standing next to the door, looking at me.

“And where did you say this cabin was, Mr. Hail?” She asks this question slowly. Everyone turns to her.

“It was—oh, I don’t know really—but it seemed to be in the heart of the woods if I’m guessing.”

“Alright, suit up everyone.” The officer opens the door to the woods, the rain that had just formed pouring everywhere in its reflecting glory. “We have a man to bring to justice.”

My life is not my own. The world around me is muddled; it feels as though I am constantly underwater. The man causes this—I know. He slips things into my drinks, shoves the bottles down throat. I should’ve ran when I had the chance.

But love truly does blind us.

“—JOAN!” My eyes shoot open, but my body stays still beneath the covers. My limbs feel like lead, heavy and numb. The man is above me; he seems angry, but handsome as always. “Get up. We have guests.”

“Wha….” I like my lips slowly. Even my tongue is numb. “What…guests?”

He rolls his eyes, his pretty amber eyes. “You’re parents are coming to visit,” his hand moves to hover above my face, then he smashes it with his palm. My neck refuses to move, so I’m left gasping, trying to desperately breathe through my mouth as my nose bends at an alarming angle.

The man’s smiles at my struggle. “They’re worried about you. After shunning you from your home, they’re worried.” He laughs, a bark, tightening his grip on my face. I stop thrashing when his hand moves, giving me air that I need. While as drink in air, he moves to our closet. His legs lean and long as they lazily stride. How can someone be so beautiful and cruel at the same time?

“What do you want to wear, dear?” The man opens the closet, tossing me a look with his heart-melting eyes.

I close my own. “Whatever you want.” I can hear him smile, his soft one with that intense edge.

“Good answer.”

                       [***]

For those who walk blind, shall never see that they’re going in circles in a locked pen. Why must the human nature be drawn to such circumstances? There are some things that even the smartest cannot comprehend.

     _—A Tree Comprised of Holloways_

I slip back in reality in time to hear my father yell: “And you still don’t have a job, Joan! How lazy are you, making your step-brother do all the work for you!”

I almost laugh at that.

I have no choice but to.

“I’m sorry….” I mumble. The man is behind me, a hand on my neck supporting my head, which feels a bit light. My step-mother is quiet, as she always is, and watching the preceding scene neutrally. Her eyes are on the man’s hand.

“Really, Chris, Mom, it’s fine,” the man chuckles, giving out his signature grin. My heart flutters before sinking back into beat, but then his grip tightens and my heart stops. “And Joan can’t do anything without me.”

Father scoffs. “Obviously. Now, we must hurry before the next airplane leaves; I have work to do.” He stands up, Step-Mother follows suit. Step-Mother spares me a glance.

Pity lines her eyes. I don’t need pity.

I only need him.

With our parents gone, I gurgle audibly this time when he squeezes my neck. He leans down, warm breath against the shell of my ear. “Are you hungry, Joan?” My head bobs in a nod. “You want pie?”

I gulp, licking my lips hungrily. The man moves away, leaving my neck cold. He grabs my arm, pulling me out of the cushioned chair, and drapes me across his arms. I already know where he’s carrying me; the place where I spend most of my days in.

He kicks the bedroom door open then steps inside. The bed is still rumpled, empty, waiting for my return. When the man stands over it, I slip out, the dip in the mattress the same as my body. My eyes close as the man tucks me in. He kisses me on my forehead, snowflake soft.

He can be sweet as well as cruel. Maybe that’s why my parents gave him to me; they only saw that side of him.

“I’ll make you some pie, okay? Take a nap, Joan.”

And I do.

It’s not like a have a choice—not that I want one.

---

(I’ll make a part two [and part two of Moon God] soon; I, like many people, still have school. Well, not Thrusday or Friday because of the hurricane. Bro, why did the announcement lady say that she hopes everyone will come back Monday…. 💀

My friend likes this concept—Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading and have an amazing day!)

Ive got a million different personalities So go on take your pick Am I bubbly and girly? Or a sad emo chick?

Am I blonde or brunette? Are my eyes brown or blue? I'm not bella poarch The choice is up to you

I can be introverted if thats you like Or maybe a social butterfly I can be anything anything at all So go on dont be shy

I am a puppet You pull the strings Dress me up Do as you please

JUST PROMISE ME YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE

Strings. Holding my smile up. Keeping my laughter. Making me seem fine.

Ha. I haven’t been fine in a long time. I smile. I bet I seem happy. Healthy.

But… nah. If those strings broke… Ha. My sanity breaks. Everything keeping me sane gone. I’d probably just break completely.

Oh. You have a question? Who holds these strings. Hmm. I wish I knew. Is it my family? Is it my fri- no not friends. I would need some for that. Ha.

Maybe it’s you. Who knows. At this point, you’ll probably cut them soon.

I’ve got a million different personalities So go on just take your pick Am I bubbly and girly Or a sad emo chick

Just promise me you will be my best friend

Am I blonde or brunette? Are my eyes green or blue? I’m not Bella Poarch The choice is up to you

Just promise me you will love me

I can be introverted if that’s what you want Or maybe a social butterfly I can be anything, anything at all So please don’t be shy

Just promise me you will play with me

I am just a puppet
You pull the strings Dress me up Do as you please

Just promise me you will never leave me

Out there, you control me. Tug on these strings… Yeah, make them all see. Drag me across the stage.

Laugh when they’re around. Scream and yell when they’re not. Pull these strings over and over. It’s really the only leverage you’ve got.

Sever a string or two. Make me beg, you like that. Get mad because I’m blue. Staple my smile on tight.

Are you ready? Here we go again! Drag me out, show me off. No, I’ll never go insane.

Smile and play. I’ll be your doll… And I’ll never go away.

What am I doing? I can feel a storm brewing Why is it so hard to be alive? Why do I want to cut with a knife?

Why can’t I reach out? She fills me with doubt. Why can’t I vent? She makes me only talk about the present. I want them to know my past They won’t care if you don’t tell it fast But there’s so much to tell! No need to yell.

It hurts. I say that a lot. It’s a reoccurring thought But I can’t tell you why, Why I can’t fly. Soon I will smile Because of her I have been for a while Soon I’ll be happy, But it won’t be me Soon she’ll come back And give me what I lack.

You’ll see me, But she is not me And she is me, At the same time.

She’ll show you how we were, Don’t mistake me for her.

TW: Very Christian. No fire and brimstone tho. I promise. ✝️ - Prompt-esque

Won’t You stay my hand again today? Wrap me in Your strings, bind my hands unto Your palms. Shape my mouth to sing Your Psalms. I can’t live within the Way, I can’t say the things You say. Wouldn’t You tether my heart to Your own? Wouldn’t You connect me, not of flesh or of bone? I can’t live with all this pain. I can’t die, but I can’t change. Draw me up from the lost and dead, strings on my chest and in my head. Raise me up to do Your will. Make me speak, please make me heal. I can’t breathe and I can’t feel, I can’t be, please make me real. Send me down to the depths of hell, I’ll tell the devil I’m doing well. Send me to a distant shore, I’ll speak Your Word and nothing more. Send me home, Christ, I’m so weary. Make me you cause I can’t be me. Save me from the rage inside me. Break me down and please revive me.
Turn the page and please rewrite me. I can’t stand this empty feeling. I can’t bear the cross I carry.

String me up with broken chains. Make me new, please make me change, so I may in Your grace remain.

Please don’t tally, don’t refrain.

Save me from my cursed brain.