cinnia
There was a catch to it all, she realized. Although it seemed easy at first, a little thought here and there, a little work there and then, it was much more than that. She fought it, day in and day out, hoping to cut it down bit by bit.
I saw the skies: clear and blue, the same as on the day we met. And I saw myself then, finding you in your own little corner of the world, both of us unable to shut out what we feared the most.
They told me not to listen, and I didn't. Maybe that was for the best, because she heard everything. I don't know anything, so I'm safe. For now, I guess. But a small part of me still wants to have heard it all, to have that knowledge, even if it means becoming hunted.
Black and white. That's what I was brought up to see. My own little brand of rose-tinted glasses. One day I left the glasses off, and was shocked to see that everything was only in varied shades of gray.
Suppose you saw me standing on a corner somewhere. What would you think of me? Would you think me young, for my fashion and hair? Odd for my mismatched jewelry and balanced precariously in my arms? Or would you think me simply different?
Words withheld from lips that speak
Sounds that ears must hear
Sights unseen by eyes that watch
Forms that flit past hands of fear
You may stride down a gilded hallway majestically, cape swirling around your shoulders and crown proudly upon your brow. I will make sure that you stumble when you see me, though. I'm not one to bow down or become cast aside. You will break when you see me and then, maybe then, I will feel that my vengeance is complete.
writing since 2010 · 7 entries · 7 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Cinnia showed up.
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the words Cinnia reaches for
cornerglassesheardbitstridegildedhallwaymajesticallycapeswirlingshoulderscrownproudlyuponbrowsure