quiet, hushed, the sun on green grass.
a tiny clearing and the singing of a brook
soft breaths and the rustling of leaves in the wind
the breeze sighs through branches and tickles ears
a boulder kissed with moss the sun
a quick jump and a soft landing as leaves whisper to each other
a slow arranging of the paws under the head and eyes falling closed
quiet, hushed, soaking in light.
i. an opening chord, a quick "one two three four," the final moments of an orchestra tuning
ii. the silence, the expectation, before the first beat and then here we are, harmonies and counterpoints and progressions and bubbling emotions
iii. what wonder, what joy, what magic
iv. soft lyrics crooned into your ear, lines that resonate something deep down a chord that just strikes you like it's striking the fabric of your atoms
v. a first dance at a wedding, memories kept cherished, an old favorite song and a "hey, remember this?"
vi. class notes put to a tune, sitting for a test mouthing "pi r squared sounds like area to me," an upperclassman singing us the causes of WWII to beyonce as we study for a course they aced
vii. such a gift, such a gift, such a gift. I forget sometimes to appreciate it
"right now, I feel absolutely awesome, like I'm flying higher than ever before. But I know that there will be a time where I will not feel this way, and I'm just dreading that day, because I know that it will be so hard not to live like this anymore."
cinderella's at the ball, and she's never felt life like this before ; so vibrant and lush and grand!
she's been dancing all night and there's something she's forgetting, not really forgetting but there's
something she wants to forget as she's swept off her feet by a handsome young prince
and a lord calls for attention and says "time for a toast!" and she flinches away from the word, from remembering
the hours pass and she's practically lighting the room, her smile a radiance like the sun and her stepsisters shield their eyes and she hears "my, is that the hour?" and the glow stutters for a moment -
a chill emanates from her shoulders and shudders in a whisper through her body to her little glass covered feet and oh, mercy, this is all she's ever dreamed of
the clock is striking twelve and cinderella is running, running.
"dearest fairy godmother, I beg you, let me stay it's so
wonderful here and I feel as if I'm dreaming but time, after all, waits for none
and I must go back home."
"my companions deserve better than what i can offer and i try my best but i cant help feeling that it is not enough!! :"D"
my hands are shaking now and I'm scared so scared
because even when I clench them hard to turn my fingers white the feeling persists it's caught me now, and I'm here
pacing my room at night biting my nails thinking, always words on my mind
the things they say the things they don't oh god dear lord tell me it's not true
the pacing stops and I'm still now, stopped, frozen, just
thinking about it, you know? thinking about if I'm right and maybe really they do deserve someone
a lot...better, you know? I forget things sometimes, I get panicked quite often and I
can't get into the music they listen to or get along with large groups too well and man, you'll never be aware of how I dream of it
but I'm thinking, still, and the warmth is seeping back into me a bit because now I'm thinking of
last christmas when your mom whispered to me that my gift was your favorite and
when you give me a present just for the heck of it and it ached a bit and I smiled and "what's the occasion? you shouldn't have!"
you pressed the little package into my hands and said "it reminded me of you"
the little things might just be enough, you know?
I don't get much sleep and I'm always tired but if you need anything, anyone, at night when it feels like even the moon has stopped shining on you I am here I swear it
I dunno if that's the best I can give but oh, I'd do anything for you
Damn me, I love them so fiercely. I dream of building them homes with soaring ceilings in the stars
but all I can do is carefully craft a little sand castle when we go to the beach and hope you like it before the tide carries it back home to sea but you know,
I think that might be
enough, because when I'm online they send me "heys!!" and funny pictures and
they smile with me, you know? and I've been thinking that I don't need to worry
too much because that might just be my best, it might be our best, you know?
"hell is other people. it really is."
if you left to a world where you can be alone I'd be happy because you'd be happy but wow,
how I'd miss you
"Why do life's duties always feel like they are taking away from actually living? Is there a point at which things don't feel so suffocating?"
you are sitting in a classroom with a sunny spring spreading on the other side of a window; the day is beautiful and warm. your teacher calls for your attention. you drag your eyes away from the clouds and lower them to your desk in shame.
the shades are drawn and the class passes while the grass grows greener and greener
you gather your books and prepare to go to your next lesson. you tear your eyes away from the covered window when you catch yourself staring; you turn away; you continue with your day.
"My past is slipping away from me. It seems like the harder I try to remember something, the further I push it to the back of my mind."
In a world long gone there was someone I knew.
Their eyes were stunning, petrifying, the sun around which I revolved but -
were they soft chocolate like that which we shared together one day or
the green under us, rich like the trees' whispered satisfaction.
maybe they reflected back the blue under which we lay -
was it raining that afternoon?
"I feel like just leaving it all behind. I just want to shed my old life and wander the world, a nomad whose home is the road."
roots starve in gravel, but the dust staves your hunger;
it works its way under your nails and laces itself in your bones.
the stars that watch over you now are strangers - but with time you'll know them, and they you, and
they'll take the compass in your breast pocket
and point it home.
"I love my friends so much but some are a little too emotionally...sensitive? Extremely sensitive and another is a bit the same but more volatile. When everything is all stable and ok in our lives we have a great time but nowadays they often throw themselves into despair and I want to help them a lot but as it goes on, it grew into a cycle and I grew...erm...desensitized?? Like, I'm almost used to it, even. So I'm wondering just how long is this gonna go until God forbid I just stop caring.”
A child trips on the sidewalk.
Their cries drag passerby, mothlike, in,
thinking perhaps of their own young one.
The months pass.
You trip on the sidewalk, and your friend catches your arm.
You've become uncoordinated as you grow.
They laugh at your clumsiness, and you resume walking under the blue.
A radio whispers that the forecast is set to change.
Neither of you carry an umbrella any longer.
You are walking the usual road home.
Who is at fault when they are shivering, soaked?
Who will dry their hair?
Why would you?
“Being placed in a conflict you don't really understand; fighting because everyone says you're fighting 'the good fight', but not knowing for yourself if your actions were for the better cause.”
You tie the blindfold tight around your eyes and steel yourself. The crowds are chanting your name. The ground is spinning under your feet, and you quell your nausea with thoughts of your queen. How she will praise you if you execute these enemies with blurry faces and shaking limbs. The people are a rolling sea of fervor. You raise your sword.
“And; what if the human race suddenly disappeared? like everyone on earth vanishes, leaving behind silent, empty streets and cities. And what if all but one person disappeared? What would that one person do?”
Her mother had always told her she could do more than the other kids, said it was in her blood. One day, as a small child, she had realized that she knew where her family was, and she knew that her brother was upset. She closed her eyes and saw them through the walls, familiar silhouettes glowing with shades of emotions.
Her mother had always told her not to worry, that she would steadfastly be by her side. The kids who were off-put by her could not hurt her. It was not their fault. Their subconscious was wary of her abilities, which she found grew stronger as she practiced with them. She grew adept at reading emotions and influencing outcomes, and left her originally discovered tracking ability to the side - she had not much use for it. With time, it was a strain to sense anything farther than a block long.
Her mother had always told her to work hard to improve all of her talents, for they were each hers for a purpose. Now she sat in the park near her apartment, the trees oblivious to her shuddering breaths. She closed her eyes and reached, straining her mind to find anyone, anything. She hit her limit and pushed further, ignoring the dull pain that was blossoming in her skull. There was nothing to be found.
Her mother had always told her to be brave. At all times, she pushed herself to look farther away. It was constant now; even with her eyes open she could feel herself expanding. Her temple beat in time with her heart as they both ached. She reached an impasse at the oceans - with nothing to anchor her sight to or orientate her progress towards, she was lost. She began pushing downwards instead. Slowly by steadily she progressed along the ocean’s floor, looking always up in the hopes that a boat like the one her father had taken her and her brother fishing on would tangle her in its anchor.
Her mother had always told her to appreciate the world around her. She watched the color of the leaves change, once, twice, three times. The ocean currents never really left her now, even when she had grasped their far beaches. Their perpetual oscillation helped, somewhat.
Her mother had always told her she was not alone. The oceans, she knew now, were much vaster than they looked on maps. When she knew for sure, she would go to the shore, to feel the changing tides with her physical self as she had seen them with her vision. In the spring of the fourth year, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The world spread beneath her, and she dug her fingers into the soil and willed for it not to be bone. Something staggered in her, and her vision blackened. She was empty - even her hope could not endure in the face of the findings of her solitary torture.
She could not remember her mother’s voice, nor her own. The grey water stretched before her, endless.