01-15-2024, 11:17 PM
— and how long must I stay, will I lay by your side
just to say that I’m yours and you’ll never be mine;
just to say that I’m yours and you’ll never be mine;
She should have been paying closer attention to her surroundings, but the sound of the man’s voice seems to come from nowhere, cutting off her aimless thoughts and catching her off guard.
She does not know why she had assumed she was alone; no one is ever truly alone here.
“...me?” she asks, confused because rarely did anyone ask for her help with anything. But there is no one else within their vicinity that he could be speaking to, and she cannot deny that curiosity has gotten the best of her. Against her better judgment and promise to herself to be more careful, she moves towards him, her glass hooves making the occasional odd clink against a rock.
He looks vaguely familiar but she cannot remember if she has met him before — she has been alone for so long that her memories feel like ghosts, faded and intangible. It seemed to be a lifetime ago since she last saw her parents, her twin, or the blue-marked boy that used to haunt her dreams; all the other faces that she has met in passing are even harder to recall.
She follows his gaze to where he had been looking across the river, but cannot seem to find what he is looking at, her eyes unable to focus on any one thing. What used to be there, she finds herself wondering? It is almost frustrating how bad her memory seems to be — she is sure there used to be something distinguishable across the river, but what was it? Beqanna had undergone so many changes in a relatively short span of time that she had stopped paying attention, but this felt different, as if the truth was being kept behind a veil. “What are we looking at?”
She does not know why she had assumed she was alone; no one is ever truly alone here.
“...me?” she asks, confused because rarely did anyone ask for her help with anything. But there is no one else within their vicinity that he could be speaking to, and she cannot deny that curiosity has gotten the best of her. Against her better judgment and promise to herself to be more careful, she moves towards him, her glass hooves making the occasional odd clink against a rock.
He looks vaguely familiar but she cannot remember if she has met him before — she has been alone for so long that her memories feel like ghosts, faded and intangible. It seemed to be a lifetime ago since she last saw her parents, her twin, or the blue-marked boy that used to haunt her dreams; all the other faces that she has met in passing are even harder to recall.
She follows his gaze to where he had been looking across the river, but cannot seem to find what he is looking at, her eyes unable to focus on any one thing. What used to be there, she finds herself wondering? It is almost frustrating how bad her memory seems to be — she is sure there used to be something distinguishable across the river, but what was it? Beqanna had undergone so many changes in a relatively short span of time that she had stopped paying attention, but this felt different, as if the truth was being kept behind a veil. “What are we looking at?”
hourglass
— with this love like a hole,
swallow my soul —
if you dont want to continue this thread just wait 3 months to reply @
Gale
swallow my soul —
if you dont want to continue this thread just wait 3 months to reply @
Gale