this is your fist life and you don't have a name. you are a feeling, tangled and green. you are chaos shaped like calamity.
this is your first life and they carve out a body. you are a girl in every sense of the word, every short skirt and scraped back hair, every bad idea and drop of blood.
(girls are something other. you will work this out when you peek through bedroom curtains in lost games of hide and seek. you will see flashes of underwear when janice spills her books across the floor. you will see the tops of milky-white thighs when you first read narnia and you will sleep with susan's name on your tongue. girls are something other and you will ache for them more than ache to be one.)
this is your first life and you are a baby. you are the little thing dragging on your sister's coattails and wrapped up in your mother's arms. you are an innocent shine in your second family's eye. you are also none of these things - when you chose not to be.
this is your first life and you are a victim. you are the weakness shaped from love and man-made obligation, and you will suffer for it. you are a by-product of the superhero, you are your sister's Gwen Stacy and you will hate every second of it. you will outgrow this.
this is your first life and you are a weapon. you will break the minds of gods and monsters and you will bleed yourself dry. you will live through it.
(you will live through most things. others will not. death will stalk your heart like a hound to a fox. you will carve holes in yourself to fit the ghosts and never find yourself absent of space. this will be out of your control.)
this is your first life and you are a watcher. your eyes are a spyglass and your mind is a universe, ever expanding to fill with more stars. you will absorb the secrets of every life you touch and you will scar with it, and it will be worth it.
this is your first life and you are a knight. you will slice your way from the darkness and violence will not quench your thirst, but you will do it anyway.
this is your first life and you are a murderer. your smile will slit the throats of boys and your fingers will crumble girls to dust. you will be too young to understand, and you will kill with pale-pink lipgloss.
(you will murder in thigh-high socks and ripped denim shorts. you will stab through hearts in spiky stilettos. it will be a mercy killing.)
RE: fic: a swan songlynzie914May 20 2015, 22:57:07 UTC
oh, i LOVE IT, LOVE IT SO MUCH.
I have like no words because you used them in this beautiful fic and i just-- GUH
HOW DID YOU DO THAT? I LOVE IT SO MUCH. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT. I LOVE THE CONTINUED USE OF THIS IS YOUR FIRST LIFE AND HOW IT TALKS ABOUT SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS AND SO MANY OF THE SAME THINGS AT THE SAME TIME. AND HOW DAWN WILL LONG FOR GIRLS MORE THAN SHE WILL LONG TO BE ONE. HOW SHE WILL ALWAYS SURVIVE EVEN WHEN NO ONE ELSE DOES. HOW SHE WILL KILL AND IT WILL BE A MERCY KILLING. AND SHE'S HOLDING A PEN IN HER HANDS AND SHE GETS TO WRITE HER OWN HAPPY ENDING NO MONKS IN SIGHT. SHE GETS TO CHOSE.
this is your first life and they carve out a body. you are a girl in every sense of the word, every short skirt and scraped back hair, every bad idea and drop of blood.
(girls are something other. you will work this out when you peek through bedroom curtains in lost games of hide and seek. you will see flashes of underwear when janice spills her books across the floor. you will see the tops of milky-white thighs when you first read narnia and you will sleep with susan's name on your tongue. girls are something other and you will ache for them more than ache to be one.)
this is your first life and you are a baby. you are the little thing dragging on your sister's coattails and wrapped up in your mother's arms. you are an innocent shine in your second family's eye. you are also none of these things - when you chose not to be.
this is your first life and you are a victim. you are the weakness shaped from love and man-made obligation, and you will suffer for it. you are a by-product of the superhero, you are your sister's Gwen Stacy and you will hate every second of it. you will outgrow this.
this is your first life and you are a weapon. you will break the minds of gods and monsters and you will bleed yourself dry. you will live through it.
(you will live through most things. others will not. death will stalk your heart like a hound to a fox. you will carve holes in yourself to fit the ghosts and never find yourself absent of space. this will be out of your control.)
this is your first life and you are a watcher. your eyes are a spyglass and your mind is a universe, ever expanding to fill with more stars. you will absorb the secrets of every life you touch and you will scar with it, and it will be worth it.
this is your first life and you are a knight. you will slice your way from the darkness and violence will not quench your thirst, but you will do it anyway.
this is your first life and you are a murderer. your smile will slit the throats of boys and your fingers will crumble girls to dust. you will be too young to understand, and you will kill with pale-pink lipgloss.
(you will murder in thigh-high socks and ripped denim shorts. you will stab through hearts in spiky stilettos. it will be a mercy killing.)
this is your first life and you have a pen.
go write your happy ending.
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h
a
t
what have you done?!
WHAT HAVE YOU DONE ACTUALLY?
#SOBSFOREVER
I am actually an incoherent mess over this so just don't speak to me, don't touch me, don't look at me for a very long time.
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i hope every awful introspective dawn fic i write will be poured down haters throats
my baby be a monster
<3
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I have like no words because you used them in this beautiful fic and i just-- GUH
HOW DID YOU DO THAT? I LOVE IT SO MUCH. EVERYTHING ABOUT IT. I LOVE THE CONTINUED USE OF THIS IS YOUR FIRST LIFE AND HOW IT TALKS ABOUT SO MANY DIFFERENT THINGS AND SO MANY OF THE SAME THINGS AT THE SAME TIME. AND HOW DAWN WILL LONG FOR GIRLS MORE THAN SHE WILL LONG TO BE ONE. HOW SHE WILL ALWAYS SURVIVE EVEN WHEN NO ONE ELSE DOES. HOW SHE WILL KILL AND IT WILL BE A MERCY KILLING. AND SHE'S HOLDING A PEN IN HER HANDS AND SHE GETS TO WRITE HER OWN HAPPY ENDING NO MONKS IN SIGHT. SHE GETS TO CHOSE.
AND I JUST.
well apparently i had some words but still.
write all the dawn. write all the everything.
Reply
dawn/girls 9ever. dawn/survival 9ever. dawn/M U R D E R 9billionever
dawn is like the ultimate meta-fiction. she write herself into reality - she can write herself out
MY BABYYYYY
i will never run out of dawn-things to say ever
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Reply
#woundedcatnoises
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