i counted the stars tonight, i gathered them all
She is ready to cry the tears spring in the corners of her eyes. Everything in her screams, her knees shake. She doesn’t cry though, they do not spill over, they just burn into her soul. The stars have rejected me, and you were the last ones I saw before they stripped themselves from my soul. She bites her lip, her pale eyes turning to them piercing into them uncertain, unsure if she should believe them. The voices were gone; they didn’t haunt her anymore. They did not whisper in her ear, taunting, and choking her life away, guiding her words, her deeds. She can’t even keep herself in check anymore, the star’s daughter used to be so cool, so collected, desirable, distant. Now she feels, and she feels everything, ten times as intense as before, there is no reason for her to hold back any longer, no need for her to watch her every move. And just as she is grateful for this, she misses her stars, she misses the long lonely nights that were not lonely at all.
The moments when the stars would smile down on her, cradle, and call her blessed. Even so the gift was a curse, she struggled to contain, to control it, to not abuse the stars, and rankle them into hatred, she wanted their love, their adoration. They entrusted her with control over them, they expected her to listen and obey, they are not yours to command, her mother’s words still haunt her, reigning her in every moment she feels a weakness to call them to herself. Instead she gazes at them from afar, feeling close to them all the while, but now…. She turns her attention to the men again You came to my home that day, and they rejected me in that moment. What other explanation could you possibly have? She gestures towards the brush and small group of trees directly behind them, showing them where she had lived, the small corner she had called home.
She doesn’t frown, instead she takes in a deep breath, even if she looks an adult, she does not feel it. She knows not of the world and its inner workings, she doesn’t have the social graces that save many souls from scorn. What she has… had was her stars, now even those are stripped from her. She drops her head, her bay roan matching Newton’s. But she is not pregnant, she has never been touched in that way, only one time has she been touched, only one instance has she known the feeling of hot breath on her shoulder, her mother left a scar on her right shoulder, teeth marks proving as a reminder to never touch the stars. Since then she has never touched anyone, nor been touched by anyone. She stands a good distance away even now. If they were to talk of friends, kingdoms, herds, lovers, babies, anything at all. The concepts would be foreign to her, something out of reach for her, just as her stars were. Talking to these men… was it okay? Would something happen to her for doing so? Her eyes flit around nervously searching the world for some answer.
The moments when the stars would smile down on her, cradle, and call her blessed. Even so the gift was a curse, she struggled to contain, to control it, to not abuse the stars, and rankle them into hatred, she wanted their love, their adoration. They entrusted her with control over them, they expected her to listen and obey, they are not yours to command, her mother’s words still haunt her, reigning her in every moment she feels a weakness to call them to herself. Instead she gazes at them from afar, feeling close to them all the while, but now…. She turns her attention to the men again You came to my home that day, and they rejected me in that moment. What other explanation could you possibly have? She gestures towards the brush and small group of trees directly behind them, showing them where she had lived, the small corner she had called home.
She doesn’t frown, instead she takes in a deep breath, even if she looks an adult, she does not feel it. She knows not of the world and its inner workings, she doesn’t have the social graces that save many souls from scorn. What she has… had was her stars, now even those are stripped from her. She drops her head, her bay roan matching Newton’s. But she is not pregnant, she has never been touched in that way, only one time has she been touched, only one instance has she known the feeling of hot breath on her shoulder, her mother left a scar on her right shoulder, teeth marks proving as a reminder to never touch the stars. Since then she has never touched anyone, nor been touched by anyone. She stands a good distance away even now. If they were to talk of friends, kingdoms, herds, lovers, babies, anything at all. The concepts would be foreign to her, something out of reach for her, just as her stars were. Talking to these men… was it okay? Would something happen to her for doing so? Her eyes flit around nervously searching the world for some answer.
Oricle
so will you hold cause time is cold
but in your soul im standing by
but in your soul im standing by
@[Sahm]
![[Image: s3dc3d.png]](http://i64.tinypic.com/s3dc3d.png)