The ground crackles like stoked flames.
Its fractured surface was desiccated and dry as a bone, little crevices creep like brittle branches on trees, connecting as diminutive paths, and hidden in between the cracks, fairytales and impossible dreams.
A gloomy mist sits upon the sky, covering the bright orange sun in its overcast, ominous obscurity. Her toes thud against the front of her shoes as she kicked pebbles from the ledge down to the ground, and watch them sizzle to coal black in just a matter of minutes.
A black shadow looms across her back, and greedily took in the scent of her hair, mingled with a dash of fear and alarm. She felt a pressure on her back and a gentle, loving shove that sent her diving for the sputtering ground.
Screams escaped her lungs, and rushed out as the winds knocked against her breath. She could hardly stand up, and the soles of her shoes were as good as gone. Scared, tired, confused, lost, she dropped to her knees, and her crimson coloured palms.
The pain turned her world black and white, and made her convulse with panic and sob the sheer throb of her skin. She dropped to her back, knowing that she could not getaway from the endless amounts of blood that were pulsating from her skin, and leaking out from her pores.
And her last thought was on him. He was the one who bandaged her knees and cleaned up her blood. He was the one who carried her when she could only limp. He gathered her wits, and loved her unconditionally. His face was a mask of calm coolness, one that could hide anything from her.
But she would always find out. She would know what he was feeling. From the way he gripped her hand when he was angry, and the way he held her cheek when he felt lonely. The way he played with her hair when he felt dreamy, or the way he held her in his arms when he couldn’t cope with the world anymore.
And that very face was staring at her from the ledge.
She could just make out the features, the creases at the sides of his eyes. And she was reading his expression. It was empty, blank as a canvas. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, his eyes were coal and black as her burnt skin, his hair billowing in the wind.
He became a vacant body and crumbled into pieces, shattering and breaking and floating away like a sprinkle of dust.
And then.
Nothing.
Its fractured surface was desiccated and dry as a bone, little crevices creep like brittle branches on trees, connecting as diminutive paths, and hidden in between the cracks, fairytales and impossible dreams.
A gloomy mist sits upon the sky, covering the bright orange sun in its overcast, ominous obscurity. Her toes thud against the front of her shoes as she kicked pebbles from the ledge down to the ground, and watch them sizzle to coal black in just a matter of minutes.
A black shadow looms across her back, and greedily took in the scent of her hair, mingled with a dash of fear and alarm. She felt a pressure on her back and a gentle, loving shove that sent her diving for the sputtering ground.
Screams escaped her lungs, and rushed out as the winds knocked against her breath. She could hardly stand up, and the soles of her shoes were as good as gone. Scared, tired, confused, lost, she dropped to her knees, and her crimson coloured palms.
The pain turned her world black and white, and made her convulse with panic and sob the sheer throb of her skin. She dropped to her back, knowing that she could not getaway from the endless amounts of blood that were pulsating from her skin, and leaking out from her pores.
And her last thought was on him. He was the one who bandaged her knees and cleaned up her blood. He was the one who carried her when she could only limp. He gathered her wits, and loved her unconditionally. His face was a mask of calm coolness, one that could hide anything from her.
But she would always find out. She would know what he was feeling. From the way he gripped her hand when he was angry, and the way he held her cheek when he felt lonely. The way he played with her hair when he felt dreamy, or the way he held her in his arms when he couldn’t cope with the world anymore.
And that very face was staring at her from the ledge.
She could just make out the features, the creases at the sides of his eyes. And she was reading his expression. It was empty, blank as a canvas. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, his eyes were coal and black as her burnt skin, his hair billowing in the wind.
He became a vacant body and crumbled into pieces, shattering and breaking and floating away like a sprinkle of dust.
And then.
Nothing.
Babe, that's how you make me feel.
No comments:
Post a Comment