now barely a memory and [An Erasure]
Title: now barely a memory and
Original text(s) erased: Ecned If Nocfles & The Last Wyvern
Erased by: turkeyish
Original text by: Lasayla
Fandom (of original text): Harry Potter
i.
now barely a memory and
fallen in the fire again
everybody feels that way when they’re young
her mum said
laughing
a vague sense of pride
despite being mostly charcoal
she continued to elude
the
icy tendril of panic creeping up her spine
fell into
somebody else’s
fire
accidentally
shaky
stolen
ill for ages
completely destroyed
…but she didn’t stop.
ii.
by now
the
very cold hands
trying to strangle her
were almost as familiar to her as her own
spent ages every morning unsuccessfully trying to hide
with
abandoned dust-cloth
blemishes
lost posture
a hesitant little trill of the fingers
curious
whatever-it-was
her
very cruel
reflection
her wrist twisting this way and that
at an odd angle
moving gently
so precariously held
her face
black all down one side
writing around the edge
a thoughtful look
or
something else equally strange
complicated desires
any of the other million things
removed from the fire and carefully added to the
pretty
stack on the plate
before
they
faded completely
that was a start
iii.
still alive
solitary
buried deep and guarded
wasted
almost vanished from the world
this strange version of herself who didn’t seem to care
dared to fight it
slithered to the floor all at once
tore
faint heart
from
fair throat
without looking back
without even burning her fingers a little
impeccable
timing
the trouble was
it didn’t seem to make a difference
they’d have laughed at anybody
the moral of the story is
THE END
Original text(s) erased: Ecned If Nocfles & The Last Wyvern
Erased by: turkeyish
Original text by: Lasayla
Fandom (of original text): Harry Potter
i.
now barely a memory and
fallen in the fire again
everybody feels that way when they’re young
her mum said
laughing
a vague sense of pride
despite being mostly charcoal
she continued to elude
the
icy tendril of panic creeping up her spine
fell into
somebody else’s
fire
accidentally
shaky
stolen
ill for ages
completely destroyed
…but she didn’t stop.
ii.
by now
the
very cold hands
trying to strangle her
were almost as familiar to her as her own
spent ages every morning unsuccessfully trying to hide
with
abandoned dust-cloth
blemishes
lost posture
a hesitant little trill of the fingers
curious
whatever-it-was
her
very cruel
reflection
her wrist twisting this way and that
at an odd angle
moving gently
so precariously held
her face
black all down one side
writing around the edge
a thoughtful look
or
something else equally strange
complicated desires
any of the other million things
removed from the fire and carefully added to the
pretty
stack on the plate
before
they
faded completely
that was a start
iii.
still alive
solitary
buried deep and guarded
wasted
almost vanished from the world
this strange version of herself who didn’t seem to care
dared to fight it
slithered to the floor all at once
tore
faint heart
from
fair throat
without looking back
without even burning her fingers a little
impeccable
timing
the trouble was
it didn’t seem to make a difference
they’d have laughed at anybody
the moral of the story is
THE END