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  • Beqanna

    COTY

    Assailant -- Year 226

    QOTY

    "But the dream, the echo, slips from him as quickly as he had found it and as consciousness comes to him (a slap and not the gentle waves of oceanic tides), it dissolves entirely. His muscles relax as the cold claims him again, as the numbness sets in, and when his grey eyes open, there’s nothing but the faint after burn of a dream often trod and never remembered." --Brigade, written by Laura


    I thought I cut him at the root // Wilt
    #1
    I slip from tree to tree, sucking down air in thick gasps. My shoulder aches where a bruise is blooming. Couldn't keep my mouth shut, as usual, and also as usual I've paid the price. Coming down into a low point of the dry riverbed, I come to a stop, leaning on a weather worn boulder. 

    "You'd think I'da learned to keep my mouth shut by now," I sniffed to no one, pressing my skull into the rock until the ache eases slightly. As I have a hundred times before, I wonder why I'm still here. Where my very existence is an affront and a disappointment. Why don't I leave, why didn't I do it the first time I realized I could? 

    And for the hundred and first time I defy myself, convince myself, that just because she doesn't care for me, doesn't mean I can't love her. Worry for her. "It's not her fault she's the way she is," I protest the very air. Talking to myself. Its another facet that she can't stand about me, but one I can't shake. I have things to say, you see. Even if there's no one who'll listen. 

    Flexing and stretching the soreness of my shoulder, I shake my head and straighten up again. I've got to keep moving, to keep the stiffness at bay. Tomorrow will be rough but for today, all I want to do is stay out of the way. 

    @wilt quite possibly trash sad girl words
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