Thank you, thegreyarea and Jitter, I'm glad you like the poetry we put on the thread! You've probably already seen our poetry in the comments anyway, but it's nice to share it somewhere that's more easily accessible to others for later than somewhere buried under the endless mountain of comments.
Adventure 2, Page 242
It boils and bubbles like pus-filled pustules, stinging and swirling and tearing and trapping itself in your skin like the shards of dark whispers that are trapped in your mind.
And it swells and grows and stays as you wait and watch and run until your legs crumple beneath you and the air that seemed so thin is suddenly solid and it cracks like a bone splintering under your skin and then, only then, when you’re battered and bruised and fallen, only then does it come out, bursting out of you like water bursts out of a broken pipe.
The glass melts. The glass melts as if it was never there at all, dripping and pooling onto the ground, and behind it, the fragile film of separation broken, you feel their heat and you feel their breath and you feel their fear seeping and creeping through your body and finding its place and sitting with your own in the cold, sharp void that is what has become of your mind.
And all you want in this one moment is to feel their fear as it stings and swirls and swells until it spills over and pools on the floor, as their bodies melt and fall like glass and finally, finally, their fear is released and they are released and all you really want is release because you are afraid and you are trapped here and you are battered and bruised and terrifyingly, torturously alive.
