I Am The Fictional

I am neither here nor there. I am somewhere in between
with emerald eyes shining and auburn hair swirling.
I am red, white, yellow and black as I stand
before the earth;
but I am not aware of the breeze as I watch
it slowly scratch away my face, its tongue
whipping my naked body.
I am standing still, nerves calm as my mind
screams in agony. I cannot hear the others voices,
but I see their eyes bleed ink into actions
scrawled on creased pages.
I am; the fictional.