FIC: Strings of Words
Author's note: Not very spoilery, but this does take you through 2x25 so... read at your own squeeful leisure ;) Also, I consider this a fic?
This world can’t talk frankness. Neither could we. A timeline.
STRINGS OF WORDS
Words.
We learned early to disattribute meanings to words.
Learned to read between falsities.
This world can’t talk frankness.
Neither could we.
Not in spoken words.
Tongues. Mouths.
Sharp. Fun. Trouble. Team. Respect.
But suddenly we learned a terrifying new language. Discovery.
Stole breaths. Not words but cries.
From the heart darkness.
Secrets, first. Too many.
Caught then suffocating.
More secrets. Lies, from now on.
To ourselves.
Dark crimes to our minds.
Sharp tongues. Smooth seductive games. Words only half-deciphered. Body language too heady to trust.
More lies. More lies. Clarity still too hazy.
Till darkness took you. Tenderness to your broken violence. Swift clarity.
But one-sided. Wound. Hope and healing… no, slip away.
Suffocation once more.
Then constant presence. Support.
Twisting knife into shady thought (slip of the tongue). Too much. Apology. Too late.
Hollow floating. Rest is a dream made nightmare. Uncertainty roils and hits hard. Spiral down.
Dream fades…
And then… Weakling. Words strong. Supplication.
Crack in the game of tongues and mouths and emotional sparring.
Eyes see, eyes beg, eyes speak, but you won’t talk. Won’t disprove harsh words from an all-knowing stranger. Coward. But at least the rebuff comes a bit weaker. I know, I know, I know.
Week later, side of a limo and rainbow boxes from across the ocean. You had time to think. Words. Three words (addendum: four actually) and meanings that don’t require a degree in deciphering complex masks and subtle games. Frankness. Truths. In broad daylight. And yet we’re all alone as words are recited like a sweet, butterfly light litany.