lifeisaverb87
She was gripping the railing as if she would fall and crash to her death if she let go. Her knuckles turning white, blood rushing from her face leaving a pale and empty mask behind. He was staring at her, the guilt written on his face like scarlet letters, his shame obvious to the world. For a moment it seemed as if she might say something. Instead she lifted a hand and smacked him hard across the face. The sound of her rage echoed down the hallway so loud, I felt it on my own face. He stumbled backwards, lost his footing and reached out to her for support. She did not reach for him. Instead she watched him tumble down the staircase. Instead she listened to him scream, and heard the crack of his skull making contact with the floor. She watched him slip out of this world and into the next in silence, and I, huddled behind the doorway, saw it all.
The drive is long, and the weather is bad. Rain pelts the windshield, like a million slaps in the face, beating down on the roof of my truck like a million fists. The thunder drums in the distance and lightening cracks across the sky, illuminating the darkness that surrounds me. There is only one hour left and then I will be there with her. She will take me into her arms and make me safe again. She will peel the clothes from my body and warm my freezing bones with the warmth of her skin. Folding me into her, she will love me as I have never been loved and it will all have been worth it.
I watch the rain run down the windowpane and pull his hoodie tighter around my body. The lightening slices across the sky, a split second spotlight across the yard. Wind howls through the trees and my shoulders shudder from the cold. The hours have been long and hard, and as much as I try not to be, I am worried. The man I love is driving through this angry weather, making his way to me. He will be upset for a moment, worried that I'll catch a cold when I run down my walkway with no jacket and no shoes, desperate to be in his arms. .He will lift me up and spin me around, before he carries me inside and covers me with kisses. I will pull his shirt over his head, and lead him into my warm bed. Pressed against him, skin on skin, we will warm each other from the inside. I will take care of him, keep him safe and sound. I will let him love me as I have never been loved before, and it will all have been worth it.
He says that she is unique, that he is drawn to her ability to be so true to herself in a world where it is so easy to get lost at every turn. He lies to her every chance he gets, lie so hard that even he starts to believe the shit that spews from his mouth. He's a fucking genius, fabricating his own existence, weaving himself into creation like a spider and his web. Her foundation with crumble, everything she thought she knew will fall into the land of maybe. She will lose her sense of what is real or not, and trust will be a thing of that past that she can barely recognize.
He tells her everything she wants to hear. Convinces her that she is special and eccentric and that there is no one and never has been anyone like her in the world. He plays her like a fucking fiddle, and then he walks away.
broken. cracked up and split in half straight down the middle. cut like scissors slicing through wrapping paper. because now there is nothing but waiting. and what am I waiting for anyway? am I fool, have I been one all along? and why do I always end up disappointed? why, even when it feels so real, does it turn out to be a fraud?
edit
translucentraspberry
Roar
She came in like a lion. Long wild hair everywhere, loud and outlandish. She was outspoken and shameless, so settled in her own skin. You couldn’t not see her, not hear her, not want a part of her to be inside of you. Vibrant and never ending. There were memories jam packed behind her eyes, things you knew that she was dying to forget. But she was stronger for them, better for them. She grew from every tragedy. If you were lucky she might whisper them to you alone in the safety of darkness, but in the light of day she would never show weakness. No, she was all over the room, opinions, and laughter, hand motions and impressions, spinning like the Tasmanian Devil of Human Emotion. Everywhere, and spreading like wildfire. There was no stopping her, no controlling the wildcat inside of her. She came in like a lion. She roared and everyone listened.
She came in like a lion. Long wild hair everywhere, loud and outlandish. She was outspoken and shameless, so settled in her own skin. You couldn't not see her, not hear her, not want a part of her to be inside of you. Vibrant and never ending. There were memories jam packed behind her eyes, things you knew that she was dying to forget. But she was stronger for them, better for them. She grew from every tragedy. If you were like she might whisper them to you alone in the dark, late at night but in the light of day she would never show weaknes. No, she was all over the room, opinions, and laughter, hand motions and impressions, spinning like the Tasmanian Devil of Humanity. Everywhere, and spreading like wildfire. There was no stopping her, no controlling the wildcat inside of her. She came in like a lion. She roared and everyone listened.
Miranda stares at her reflection in the mirror until the tears blur her vision. Her fist hits the center of the mirror so hard, it shatters and shards fly out in every direction. Knuckles bleeding, shed rubs the tears from her eyes and straightens her back. She pushes her hair behind her hair with her good hand, takes a deep breath and walks out the door, deciding that it's finally time to cut her losses.
She stepped lightly over the wreckage of the building and scanned the horizon. He was out there, somewhere, waiting for her, she was certain. Hopefully the infection that raged inside him had stayed dormant long enough for her to get to him. Long enough that she could be there for his last days before he made the transition and she would have to kill him. Hopefully she would make it in time to hold him and whisper one last "I love you." before he faded into the darkness and then returned to her, undead.
She licks the icing off of her pinky finger and looks at the cupcakes with disdain. They are perfect little vanilla cakes, with just the right amount of icing swirled across the top. The finishing touch will be the sprinkles, scattered sparingly across the top of the cakes like a shimmering fairy dust.
She's made them just the way that he likes them, fluffy and moist. But he will never eat them because he left her. He will never taste the delicious little cakes or the sweet icing that she made from scratch complete with tears, because she wasn't good enough for him to stick around.
Holding her swollen belly she whispers "It's going to be okay." Then, tears streaming down her face, she smashes her fists into the cupcakes over and over again, beating the cakes until there is nothing left but crumbs.
She clawed his back and chills rain up and down his spine. Nestled in between his legs, her knees pointed to the ceiling and sweat trickled down her face. She felt his beard tickle her shoulder and then he rocked her forward and she was lost all over again.
load more entries
writing since 2012 · 14 entries · 13 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means LifeisaVerb87 showed up.
1longest streak
13days written
0.1entries / week
the words LifeisaVerb87 reaches for
faceinsidelovehandbehindskincakestearshardhairlioneverywherewatchedmirrorrainlost