01-15-2017, 11:47 PM
your mouth is poison, your mouth is wine. i don't love you, but i always will.
A powerful, deceitful word.
One wrapped delicately with ribbon and lace, as sweet as arsenic.
And no less destructive.
Her own heart pined and ached within the bitter end of winter, though she could not and would not submit to the sheer weight of emotion that weighed so heavily upon her sinewy bones. Too often, she would swallow the swell of emotion that lingered within her throat, tasting the acidity of bittersweet memories and knowing well that her own fierce yet bristling heart could not be loved in any capacity.
She is covered in proverbial thorns; her heart and mind both guarded with the rusted barbed wire of weariness and reluctance. Though she had only allowed one to taste the sweat upon her skin and feel her bindings come loose in heated moments of vulnerability, tucked beneath a dense blanket of stars in the dead of night, she had yet to confess her bare-boned sin of ..
She dare not say it.
Love, she quietly mulls to herself with the faintest of a sneer, her golden legs carrying her forward though her rampantly rampaging mind unravels within itself, and her wandering is aimless. a waste of time. Wasted breath.
Still, it burned within her like a flickering ember, burning low and slow in the very pit of her stomach, sating her with the faintest sensation of warmth and yet depriving her of the deep, searing burn she ached for. It was only a matter of time, she knew, until his eye wandered elsewhere, until his demons unsettled his mind yet again and the memories returned to haunt his dreams, and he would sate his desires with another - as he had many times before her. She held no significance in time - she was but a blemish in his flawed, already bespeckled history, and she had known it from the very moment his whiskered lips had first touched her white-hot skin.
It does not quell the ache, but the knowledge has long since settled in the back of her mind. The way her heart yearns will remain unspoken, buried beneath a forced smile and scathing, humorless remarks thrown at will. Still, she will burn. Burn, burn, slowly burn.
And smile all the while.
A long, wistful sigh finally emerges from her, as a cloud of carbon dioxide pools before her. The ice has yet to melt away, and the biting cold lingers still - a gentle dusting of snow settling along her curved spine as she presses deeper into the dense foliage of an unusually quiet and still forest. Her golden flesh scratches against the dull, drying bark of an old pine, which rattles a branch looming precariously over her - soon, the nape of her neck and the tightly folded lines of her thick, white wings are doused in a layer of heavy snow, eliciting a gasp and a shriek of displeasure.
Frustration sears through her veins, and with a growl of irritation, she tosses the tangled, now damp locks of hair to and fro, shaking the snowflakes away from her now shivering skin. With her brow furrowed, she presses forth into the clearing, the wide expanse of her wings outstretched to each side as she writhes and stirs the snow away from her feathers, her blunt teeth preening wildly in an attempt to remove the offending ice from within the woven pieces.
Suddenly, a feeling of dread pools within her belly, and her hazel eyes search the bleak landscape - only to meet a deeply set, scowling set of eyes. An unfamiliar face, but still, she sneers at him - matching him quirk for quirk.
"What are you looking at?"
Ellyse