10-16-2021, 02:00 PM
Her death hit in waves. Not a flood, but water lapping steadily at her ankles. You could drown in two inches of water. Maybe grief was the same.
Never has she known a night to seem as endless as this night.
Every whispering branch and rustling leaf is holding its breath, while the forest sits in a darkness and blackness so thick she might think herself blind if the blue of her eyes did not burn so much. It is when there is a clearing of the trees in the forest that she can finally erase the blackness, if only for a moment (the shadows always came back to her. Always, always, always). Had the stars always looked so lovely? Like diamonds atop a black mink stole, wrapped like a ribbon a little girl’s hair. Under a spill of soft moonlight, Elliana stood as still as a doll, lashes fluttering closed as she tilted her head towards the midnight sky.
The world spun, spun like it did when she’d twirl too many pirouettes in a row — yet when she counted to three and opened her eyes, the world did not stop spinning. Blurs of silver, streaks of yellow.
Cerulean eyes, bright as a lark’s, swept the moonlit forest around her. There was no gold in her vision anymore.
Only darkness. Once again.
Always, always, always.
“Don’t let the shadows scare you.” He said. Her father. Back when she had not known, sitting around the fires, embers hitting her skin. She should known then, that is what a lie feels like.
Burning.
Each step blooms a bruise on her heart, soft blues and blacks that are never old enough to yellow.
On and on she walks with her bruised heart.
There is no part of her that is content (only wanting) when she looks towards him, only then her steps halting.
She is patient in the silence that builds between them. It is only one of the similarities that was passed from father to daughter.
“Is it you I have to be frightened of? Or your shadows?” She asks him, so curious because she, ultimately knows so little of the shadows she has started to grow so close to. She wonders if others grow as curious of the darkness as she does. They lay forgotten as their eyes shut for the night, blind to them.
But not him.
Every whispering branch and rustling leaf is holding its breath, while the forest sits in a darkness and blackness so thick she might think herself blind if the blue of her eyes did not burn so much. It is when there is a clearing of the trees in the forest that she can finally erase the blackness, if only for a moment (the shadows always came back to her. Always, always, always). Had the stars always looked so lovely? Like diamonds atop a black mink stole, wrapped like a ribbon a little girl’s hair. Under a spill of soft moonlight, Elliana stood as still as a doll, lashes fluttering closed as she tilted her head towards the midnight sky.
The world spun, spun like it did when she’d twirl too many pirouettes in a row — yet when she counted to three and opened her eyes, the world did not stop spinning. Blurs of silver, streaks of yellow.
Cerulean eyes, bright as a lark’s, swept the moonlit forest around her. There was no gold in her vision anymore.
Only darkness. Once again.
Always, always, always.
“Don’t let the shadows scare you.” He said. Her father. Back when she had not known, sitting around the fires, embers hitting her skin. She should known then, that is what a lie feels like.
Burning.
Each step blooms a bruise on her heart, soft blues and blacks that are never old enough to yellow.
On and on she walks with her bruised heart.
There is no part of her that is content (only wanting) when she looks towards him, only then her steps halting.
She is patient in the silence that builds between them. It is only one of the similarities that was passed from father to daughter.
“Is it you I have to be frightened of? Or your shadows?” She asks him, so curious because she, ultimately knows so little of the shadows she has started to grow so close to. She wonders if others grow as curious of the darkness as she does. They lay forgotten as their eyes shut for the night, blind to them.
But not him.