I can smell it, see it in soundless colors and I resent all of this bitterly. Hair covers my eyes but you will find that you do not need eyes in this place. Everything is felt and dark. New people move into my grasp, like insects in a spider's web. I can even feel a sublime heart beat.

How lovely to resent. How intoxicating to have such bitter tears, and have a heart that has become cold with the embrace of death. Water that is murky and oily hide me well, and it seems that the world overlaps. It it does just enough, I can reach out and touch you.

It doesn't end for me, like I though it would. There is a ragged, wet, breath. Everything is moldy here. Wet. But, inside there is no relief for the intensity I feel. Why would there be? Even in death, I remember your face. I remember it and I need no eyes. You don't have them where I live.

Maybe if I put a cold hand near your neck, you will feel it? Maybe if I get close to you, and look into your eyes with my own intense ones? Everything is oily. I wanted to die, and I got that, but where am I now?

Living beings mock this, they are unaware as they do this, but it is fine. Allow me to 'educate' you.  How did I become this way? It was so long, and I am sure people that new me, have either been touched by this, are dead, or have forgotten. Allow me to gently remind. I want everyone to feel this. Even if that's the last thing they feel.

The mouth parts and a silent scream fills lungs. I can feel a heart beat, and it warms my own but is gone so fast. Claws cannot grasp this. Oily hair, that is long and an untidy sea does not grasp it either.