A short, introspective piece inspired by a bit of IC dialogue.
This is not the first time she has broken her mirror.
--that’s not me, I know it’s not. I don’t look like that—blond haired, brown eyed; not my father’s hair, not my father’s eyes, not at all--
Its not even the first she’s felt bad about it.
--this was ours. Our thing in our house that we got together. We suffered for this and we survived for this and I broke it.—
This is, however, the first time she has done so without really knowing why.
--White, grey, black. Colours bleed out and die and only purity remains and I am drifting higher, ever higher, into the empty winter sky. I feel cold.—
This is not the first time she has broken her mirror but...
--Lighter than air, lighter than warmth and lighter than love, she strains. A balloon on a fraying string that shimmers, iridescent. Weighed down only by her body she waits, patiently—to fly—
...but it’s the last time the mirror will ever be whole.
This is not the first time she has broken her mirror.
--that’s not me, I know it’s not. I don’t look like that—blond haired, brown eyed; not my father’s hair, not my father’s eyes, not at all--
Its not even the first she’s felt bad about it.
--this was ours. Our thing in our house that we got together. We suffered for this and we survived for this and I broke it.—
This is, however, the first time she has done so without really knowing why.
--White, grey, black. Colours bleed out and die and only purity remains and I am drifting higher, ever higher, into the empty winter sky. I feel cold.—
This is not the first time she has broken her mirror but...
--Lighter than air, lighter than warmth and lighter than love, she strains. A balloon on a fraying string that shimmers, iridescent. Weighed down only by her body she waits, patiently—to fly—
...but it’s the last time the mirror will ever be whole.
no subject
Date: 2011-07-07 06:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-07-08 02:12 am (UTC)