odd...
i dont feel like writing anything specific right now, just thought id update is all. but im in a fiction mood right this second, so thats all you get from me. life is mostly fiction anyway right? making everything up as we go along... non-fiction in its fiction state. maybe thats me. *has spirals in eyes*... read on if you feel like it. i dont even know whats going to come out, just going to spill.
Glass glittered in the bright navy night, spitting little specs of stars and moon from the ground. Only about a cup of blood had spilled, but it still hurt a little. I'm assuming it hurt, because well... the twitching had ceased about an hour ago, and yet i still stood there watching. No, i wasnt waiting, but i wasnt about to run either. I sat next to her and held her little head off of the ground, away from the glass. Like sequins on a black gravel dress, the cold ground emitted a soft steam when she first bled. It was her body heat. Sometimes i feel that steam when i sit alone, sometimes i think i hear her or see her out of the corner of my eye. I remember the way the snow crunched under my feet as i walked along the back of the house, how it licked the souls of my bare feet as i approached the driveway. I remember hearing her siren voice as she belted notes that could never make music. I remember the words that came out when she did sing at me. The window breaking, i remember my smile.
But what i dont remember is the day before that night. I suppose it doesnt matter now, being that the past is in fact, just that. I remember everything that happened that week, up until the day before it happened. The common one-sided arguments after i woke up. I remember closing my eyes and sitting on the roof at night, wishing i would fall but hoping it wouldnt hurt. I remember her maniacal smile and the way her cold fingers would caress the back of my neck when i sat at my mirror. I remember how she would always make me drink my scalding hot tea just like that. When i was three she stopped letting me put an ice cube in my tea, saying it would ruin me. Lies she told me by day, orders she gave me, nonchalantly sipping her drinks and not even caring whether or not i did them, kind stories she told me before sleep. Then the cold kisses goodnight, while her long fingers crept up my blanket and tucked it too tightly around my neck, her fingernails peeking over the cover onto my jugular, as if to mock me.
There were things i thought she could have hid better, but i never said anything to her, never so much as a hint. Gestures, i spoke that way with her. Never danced, never smiled, not once. Never sung the songs she sang, never wished to. Only wanted what made me happy, as i gripped each piece of broken porceline in my hand after she smashed my angel night-light against her mirror. I remember salty metalic creme on my tongue. Things she wouldnt have let herself recognize about me while i stared at her when she slept. Things i did in the middle of the night in the woods by our house.
The snow fell silently that night, cradeling each shard of glass the way my heart cradeled my defiance. I felt the cold, but only because she was so near. I tilted my head back and let the icy flakes melt on my tongue. The same tongue that had been, just seconds ago, coated with her blood.
i dont know what i just wrote or what it means, but enjoy it.
Sleep. Dreams. inevitable waking up. enjoy things, or try to...or pretend to. itll be worth it.
^v^
Glass glittered in the bright navy night, spitting little specs of stars and moon from the ground. Only about a cup of blood had spilled, but it still hurt a little. I'm assuming it hurt, because well... the twitching had ceased about an hour ago, and yet i still stood there watching. No, i wasnt waiting, but i wasnt about to run either. I sat next to her and held her little head off of the ground, away from the glass. Like sequins on a black gravel dress, the cold ground emitted a soft steam when she first bled. It was her body heat. Sometimes i feel that steam when i sit alone, sometimes i think i hear her or see her out of the corner of my eye. I remember the way the snow crunched under my feet as i walked along the back of the house, how it licked the souls of my bare feet as i approached the driveway. I remember hearing her siren voice as she belted notes that could never make music. I remember the words that came out when she did sing at me. The window breaking, i remember my smile.
But what i dont remember is the day before that night. I suppose it doesnt matter now, being that the past is in fact, just that. I remember everything that happened that week, up until the day before it happened. The common one-sided arguments after i woke up. I remember closing my eyes and sitting on the roof at night, wishing i would fall but hoping it wouldnt hurt. I remember her maniacal smile and the way her cold fingers would caress the back of my neck when i sat at my mirror. I remember how she would always make me drink my scalding hot tea just like that. When i was three she stopped letting me put an ice cube in my tea, saying it would ruin me. Lies she told me by day, orders she gave me, nonchalantly sipping her drinks and not even caring whether or not i did them, kind stories she told me before sleep. Then the cold kisses goodnight, while her long fingers crept up my blanket and tucked it too tightly around my neck, her fingernails peeking over the cover onto my jugular, as if to mock me.
There were things i thought she could have hid better, but i never said anything to her, never so much as a hint. Gestures, i spoke that way with her. Never danced, never smiled, not once. Never sung the songs she sang, never wished to. Only wanted what made me happy, as i gripped each piece of broken porceline in my hand after she smashed my angel night-light against her mirror. I remember salty metalic creme on my tongue. Things she wouldnt have let herself recognize about me while i stared at her when she slept. Things i did in the middle of the night in the woods by our house.
The snow fell silently that night, cradeling each shard of glass the way my heart cradeled my defiance. I felt the cold, but only because she was so near. I tilted my head back and let the icy flakes melt on my tongue. The same tongue that had been, just seconds ago, coated with her blood.
i dont know what i just wrote or what it means, but enjoy it.
Sleep. Dreams. inevitable waking up. enjoy things, or try to...or pretend to. itll be worth it.
^v^