08-17-2015, 11:52 PM
you taught me the courage of stars before you left
At first it had felt like her soul was unraveling, all those carefully knit-together pieces coming irreparably undone. But it felt different now. Empty. It felt like nothing. The agony of standing before him while he tore into every shame, every flaw, every mistake she had ever made was unbearable. Like being betrayed by your own heart, by something that knew you in a vulnerable, intimate way. At first she had not believed him, love trapped her like a moth in a web. But then, suddenly, it was not a matter of believing, it was seeing herself as he saw her. Only flaws, only regret.
She had pushed everything out at that point. Every happiness and every sadness, every accomplishment and every regret. And in their place walls had been erected. Tall, vast, impenetrable. It had been the only way she could look at that sneering face she had loved so much, and still loved, without shattering to pieces like a dropped porcelain doll. She had tried to think of his flaws, his weaknesses, but animosity did not come as easily to her. She thought of his wildness, his rawness, and she loved him for it. She remembered his dying days when his skin cracked and bled and red bubbled from his raw, swollen mouth, and she felt only fear, only concern.
But her love was not blind anymore, and her loyalty was untethered. It was true that she would always love him, you couldn’t give away so much of your heart and expect to just take it back. But she would never trust him again. And now, with the wounds still raw and aching and flayed wide open, she hoped he would never come looking for her.
Night had fallen in the hours since they had parted and with only the company of the moon and her stars, Oksana shattered those walls in a torrent of quiet desperation. She reeked of sorrow and of loneliness, of regret and a lack of belonging. She hunched agonized beneath wilted feathers on lethargic wings, the bright copper of her skin trembling violently.
Makai was gone, her children had gone, mother had died during birth.
Her life was filled with lies.
And now, without Makai to voice judgement, she began to unravel that tangle of regret. Every failure, every heartbreak, the loss of Ilka and Pyxis, the distance of Malis. And Makai. She ached to go back home and forget all of this, to heal from these wounds, but home had always been Makai. The Chamber was just a place. Her not-sister was there, the only family who seemed to love her, but so was Atrox and his heart. A constant reminder of a regret she couldn’t bear to face just yet.
There was only loneliness.
Only the solitude of here.
But even that would be gone by morning.
She had pushed everything out at that point. Every happiness and every sadness, every accomplishment and every regret. And in their place walls had been erected. Tall, vast, impenetrable. It had been the only way she could look at that sneering face she had loved so much, and still loved, without shattering to pieces like a dropped porcelain doll. She had tried to think of his flaws, his weaknesses, but animosity did not come as easily to her. She thought of his wildness, his rawness, and she loved him for it. She remembered his dying days when his skin cracked and bled and red bubbled from his raw, swollen mouth, and she felt only fear, only concern.
But her love was not blind anymore, and her loyalty was untethered. It was true that she would always love him, you couldn’t give away so much of your heart and expect to just take it back. But she would never trust him again. And now, with the wounds still raw and aching and flayed wide open, she hoped he would never come looking for her.
Night had fallen in the hours since they had parted and with only the company of the moon and her stars, Oksana shattered those walls in a torrent of quiet desperation. She reeked of sorrow and of loneliness, of regret and a lack of belonging. She hunched agonized beneath wilted feathers on lethargic wings, the bright copper of her skin trembling violently.
Makai was gone, her children had gone, mother had died during birth.
Her life was filled with lies.
And now, without Makai to voice judgement, she began to unravel that tangle of regret. Every failure, every heartbreak, the loss of Ilka and Pyxis, the distance of Malis. And Makai. She ached to go back home and forget all of this, to heal from these wounds, but home had always been Makai. The Chamber was just a place. Her not-sister was there, the only family who seemed to love her, but so was Atrox and his heart. A constant reminder of a regret she couldn’t bear to face just yet.
There was only loneliness.
Only the solitude of here.
But even that would be gone by morning.
how light carries on endlessly, even after death
Oksana