She turned. Too fluidly for it to be accidental and too
robotic for it to have been planned, and yet she did it. She turned away. Her
eyes drawing across dusty surfaces and forgotten ornaments in order to wash the
disappointment from her pupil. It was slow; almost all too real, and yet still
so distant and rehearsed. She wore a mask made of butterfly wings and broken
harmonies upon a face once so vividly portrayed as a masterpiece. She hid
behind the beauty of things she couldn’t possibly possess in order to remain
truthful to her own mind and soul. She hid behind the broken atrocities of
someone else’s life in order to remain the fortified mess of hormones she had
grown to rely on.
Dragging dirt from beneath her fingernails, she tore herself
in two. One dreaming of an existence where music played and passion erupted on
the corners of dimly lit streets in the rain, the other resigning to the fact
that streetlights shone too brightly and cameras buzzed too loudly for the
moment to be sacred. Raindrops fell too similarly to tear drops. Corners had too
much of a point. Fear held too much power over her; the shadows leering and
spitting. Someone could get hurt and she learned a long time ago that that
someone would be her.
Night falls, lingering mournfully on her paling skin;
Moonshine casting a glow of empathy on her curved neck and rigid shoulders. Her
eyes glossed with the turmoil of an aging veteran and the brightness of a
million heart breaks. I cried. I couldn’t help but get lost in the words that
she wasn’t willing to share with me. I couldn’t fight the pull of a million
hands begging for me to break the chain that encroached on her ability to love.
I moved towards her; uncertain footsteps bringing our bodies together. Skin to
skin, we stood. Her gaze not lifting from a figure in the distance, her head
turned in shame.
She turned. Broken and forgotten, every item was dragged out
in her line of vision until it blurred. Tears refusing to fall -memories
refusing to dissipate. I turned; so enveloped in her movement that, without
realising, I began to mirror her actions. Smoothly, I wrapped my mind around
hers, my arms too, while she stood in silence and allowed the danger of regret
destroy what was left of her composure. Screaming in absolute silence, her body
slowly shook – taking beatings from the words she left unsaid and the bone
cracking violence of people she let slip away. I wrapped my body around hers,
begging for attention, pleading to be allowed a chance to have captivating eyes
fall on me. She barely noticed.
She sighed and she turned. Falling into an abyss where the
overcrowded remnants of thought soaked up the energy she once had and disabled
her ability to hope.
