Dancing with the Devil

Well hello there internet! ((Hello Skittles!)) I'm back with an UPDATE, how amazing. Not really, but I do my best to convey some enthusiasm here, don't I?Welcome to a new section based on poetry, shorts, stories and things like that called ART IN WORDS- I have a short piece for you, based on the experience's of someone I know who at the moment is trying to cope with a lot of stress. It's entitled 'Vertigo'
Enjoy, or, well, appreciate? I don't know.

***

She stands in the rain, dark hair plastered against her pale skin, but beyond that, she is completely and utterly forgettable.  She’s a creature of the corner of your eye, the jump-scare lurker that misses your gaze the first time around. However, whilst she has your attention, she commands your fear like a master of the mind. She is wholly without remorse, or pity.
She’ll call out your inner most fear and whisper it so closely in your ear that it sounds like your own mind is telling you how you’ll fail, fall and inevitably die alone and so awfully empty that it will be like a release.
Try as you might to ignore her, the winter days are short, and the darkness comes so fast that she sweeps in with it, a wraith of your most troubled mindset, the being of a thousand horrified what ifs. She is all that you’ll never admit to, embodied in this twisted sick girl who waits for your guard to go down, for the lights to dim, and then strikes with her whispers.
The worst part is when you start to believe her. When you think she may be right, and I swear she gets louder for it. When you think- am I crazy? And she answers ‘of course’. When you fret and toss and turn in the darkness, and she just laughs.
Insanity laughs and the devil gets angry. Karma kicks you in the teeth- everything that can fail will, because hey, this is you, and she’s laughing at you, not with you- because this girl is a sick, sick, sick embodiment of your worst side, your darkness, your insane and depraved maybes.
She’s the spinning, the falling out of your skull, the long pauses where so much happens, the lapses, the tight headaches and the buzzing and the oh-god-please-don’t-be-s.
She’s Vertigo.

***

And that's my depressing little segment for the day. I've got lots of posts in the wings, since I got all my GCSE Art stuff back and can start some regular posting of sketchbook pages and the like, so, yay!

Signing off with all my usual cheer!