Photo by Zoë Collins (She/Her)
come out. come out.
the voices only murmur, but they reverberate along the walls, amplifying with every echo as they reach your ears. it’s a call. it’s a threat.
come out. come out.
the shiver of fear runs along your spine and you grope at the walls desperately, blind from the sound of the chanting,
come out. come out.
you break free of the walls, of the echos, and are met with whisperings of vicious wind. it whips at your limbs as they too hiss the call,
come out. come out.
your ears bleed with the sound, skin raw from the force of the current and you run. barefoot on grass through the storm all the while the air suffocates you with,
come out. come out.
your feet find the sand and your body leaps for the water, desperate to block yourself off from the wind only to find yourself submerged in a muddy gurgle of,
come out. come out.
your lungs stutter and body, heart, and soul become heavy as you sink, enveloped by the weight and depth of its call. you jolt as you hit the bottom, and it is there you realize you will always hear the words,
come out. come out.
wherever you are.
Credits:
Author: Mauve (They/Them)
Artist: Zoë Collins (She/Her)