Doll's Eyes

Becoming a god is easy. Easiest thing I'd ever done, fastest too. Losing your humanity isn't the price you pay, it is the natural evolution of things. One sweaty, stinking, bloody second and I was ready. The monster had created a god, and he would never live long enough to know it. 

It hurts to think about before. I can't really tell anymore truthfully, whether I lost my humanity before or after, but I can tell you we don't lose our soul but become it. All it takes is one moment of pure commitment to a thing, place, or ideal, and we are born, or broken open however you wish to look at it. 

I chose never to let this happen again. To anyone. Ever. And just like that, I became. I was shaped and twisted to serve my purpose and everything not of use fell away. Power comes later, as you are true to your soul. It is given in wild ways, by wild shapes, according to need. 

Now I see from a thousand eyes, hungry shapes in the dark. Every childhood homunculi is my spy. And should they need, my means. But do they justify? Yes, I give rest.

Knothole

     Life seemed a lost thing when standing at the knothole. People

 passing behind me, nattering, scuffling, pale grey nothings while I 

 gazed through that hole into nowhere. Every minute of life that 

 was mine, had been spent before I'd been born. All I've had to call 

 my own was ten minutes a day and a hole in the wall, and I

 savored every second.

     

The world beyond is guarded by light. It is every single thing 

we've  taken from ourselves. Breathing green, my eyelids receive a

 benediction. A blessing / geas to return the next day, pray for

 rain, for green things, for spring. This place is our own, we haven't

 tamed it, we have broken it, and now it's light's died and ashes

 remain. Those who protect the true places, give small truths and  

 we starve for the smell of more. Yet we daren't bite the hand. One 

 day they may let us in.