Cait! All Pixeled Up. Hat And No Hat (My Art) Vs. Reference (Picrew)Im Really Happy With This! Eeeeeee



Cait! All Pixeled Up. Hat and No Hat (My Art) vs. Reference (Picrew) I’m really happy with this! Eeeeeee
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More Posts from Apottovan
You inspired me to make my own little pawn! But then I got distracted and decided I'll make a little mushroom guy... soon...




A friend somehow convinced me that his desire to build a chess board was in fact not stupid, and I somehow believed him. Anyways I have a bit of cleaning up and staining to do, but two down fourteen to go…
Bone spaghetti.
Tooth cereal.
When...
[Trigger Warning: Blood, Violence, Murder Mention]
When will it be her?
Behind the glass, the wheel spins. Every gift it gives is just enough to keep me strung along. Every item wears her scent, reflects her image.
When will it be her?
Five dozen options, all carved into stone.
Tick, tick, tick.
The symbols are mirrored along the edge of the arena, each one stained and soaked in blood.
Blood I give for her.
Finally, the wheel settles.
A beast claws its way out of the red, scraping against stone.
So close.
Its breath is sweetness, its gaze fire.
I hate it.
It has been so difficult to stay quiet in my pursuit of love. How many more must go missing?
It knows I’ll never reject a gift.
I bring my face to its own. Skull to skull, glare to glare.
How shall it carry my burden?
It’s not enough to drown out the accusations.
A witch hunt only to be stalled by tricks and honey words.
Plunge him into the water and if he burns it’s...
Murder! Murder! Murder!
I watch my own case from the crowd, breath cold and slow.
Don’t look.
You won’t like what you see.
Another drug into the pits.
Every time my hands shake.
Careful.
Nothing steadies them.
It knows exactly what I need.
I know exactly what it wants.
Murder! Murder! Murder!
A judge for an injustice.
A daughter. A son. A wife.
Now a husband.
How many bones need to break?
Red washes over the floor.
The wheel creaks.
It spins.
She’s perfect.
It’s a shame she can’t be real.
My nails sink into the meat of my palm.
I hammer the glass.
When will it be her?
Warehouse Poetry- 001
Something deep has settled
And bleeds in me
And I dont know that I can shake it
Nor that I would ever want to
For without its weight
I'm not certain I'd ever feel whole
So can you take my hand
And rest within me so
Together we can worry for the monster
I might become