Post by Eliza Valentine on Feb 1, 2016 2:05:47 GMT
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
Beating a tune as you fall all around
There they hover over me, barely faces... distorted and lost, dripping wet with sweat and slick with blood, painted red across their lips like a smile... Fake and glowing... Happy... Happy....
But she doesn't know what happiness is, only fear that feeds into it until you are broken - she stands behind out of sight but never out of mind as their gloved hands rip and tear, nails sharper than their daggered teeth between white and pristine cleanliness tears apart my skin, ripping through muscle and sinew to bathe me in my own life force as it trickles down and screams scratch dry in my throat, burning like my nerves as my body flexes and tenses, trying to tell me what I can't see...
Not real... Not truth.... Not...
Bones snap, crack like old twigs, snapped from branches of the trees that sowed from seeds he left, planted in this place; I am strong, so she says, strong enough to overcome it all and yet, they bear down harder, deeper, snap and twitch, bleed and scream; soundless without tears, nothing left to give but still they take... How long... How much more until I break?
That's what they want... Here... And there....
To be lost and broken but I will not bow... I am not done or dead or gone, no mastery or ownership... But the glow, the heat... Soothes the burn and it is she, the Salvation; the welcoming; the transformation of my very being and it starts with that SNAP! The break, tear away the flesh and strip me bare... For she shall rebuild... I shall rebuild...
And fly.
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
What can compare with your beatiful sound?
Drip, drop, drip, drop
I am afraid.
How many people have the balls to sit and say that? To stare at their reflection, or themselves reflected in the things they love the most and say, I am afraid.?
None.
You all think this is about strength and passion, you cannot understand that it is through fear we grow, it is through fear we become.... This week, I am afraid.
I am afraid to disappoint here, I am afraid to not climb the mountain built just for me... I am afraid that I will not be enough, strong enough, smart enough, filled with faith enough; to go on and teach that ungrateful little bitch a lesson in humility....
I am afraid, but beyond that... I am disgusted.
Disgusted that she has offered the world to her; and just like Emma who fell last week... Alexis, you threw it all in her face, you rejected her love - you rejected the Salvation and freedom of knowing true peace...
And now I am afraid for you.
Because imagine, just imagine what this means; what it means that I am willing to place my hands on my Grace... That I am willing to go to war with the Love in my heart, that I am ready and Able to destroy the very being within my selfless soul and rebirth her as one, she and I as everything; just so I may have a shot at you... To rip from you the thing that you love most and replace it with the fear you choke down.
I know you are afraid Alexis and you should be... Because you sacrificed your Mother; her love and devotion for straps and metal around a worthless waist easily snapped in half....
I am afraid...
To fall, to fail and to succeed... I understand now; this is my Metamorphosis, my chance to fold in and become all that she sees and it will be my fear and her love, my destruction and her hope, that pushes me to be all she ever hoped for you...
Tick.Tock.
Tick.Tock.
I'm coming for your head.
Drip, drip, drop
When the sky is cloudy
Your pretty music will
Brighten the day.
This is what has to happen, she promises me, her pale white fingers wiping hair from my brow, sighing softly and shaking her head... But her eyes... I cannot see her eyes, just her heart-beating on her face, slow and soft... Boom... Boom...
This is what has to be done she whispers, her fingers dancing away the beads of sweat that settle on my brow as they tear from me everything that is me, my very me... Every me... They take it, tear it away with a vicious delight but all I can see is that heart beat.
Medical masks plastered over faces, beeping and whirring as they cut and click and blood trickles across cold skin, so cold like a slab, it's freezing here but I cannot feel the bite of it's sting, because all I can feel is that heartbeat.
Boom
Boom
Boom.
It'll all be over soon love, she smiles...And she is, she does... The only one who knows, who can see, even without her eyes she can see the very worst of me and how it must come out, it must be pulled from beneath it'shiding place and sewn upon my sleeves....
Mother always loved when she wore her heart on her sleeves...
It's all for the best, she coos and kisses, bright pink lips like fluttered hearts on my cheeks, red and flushed though I have no more blood to give, starving the Vampire within who wants to be fed as she screams, but I cannot feel them leave, just the heartbeat not quite on her cheek...
But where her eyes used to be.
Drip, drip, drop
When the sky is cloudy
You come along with a
Song right away
Come with your beautiful music
Kisses fall like raindrops from the sky, wash away the pain. Make it all better, her touch soft as her smile as her eyes shimmer with love... Those eyes, so beautiful, unblinking....Always watching me, behind closed lids I see them peering into mine, never gone... Always there, I feel her.
It is soft and warm like a hug, the way her fingers wrap around my arm and tighten, pull the cord, torquinet and the elixir like a love potion, thick and squirming through my veins fills me with an effervescence a soft heat that prickles all across me comforting, it's home.... Pain... Lost... Love....
Home.
It is a loving embrace, the hope in her words that trickle like serum to my ears, inject it into me, fill my blood stream with her promises as they curl about and drown me... Pulled down.
The cooling touch of her fingers on my brow as she smiles, distorted and flickering like a bad TV reception she flickers before my eyes, but her comforting touch, cooling the sweat on my face as I push and pull, I can do this... Move - get going.... She can see you now, moving... Go....
Her hushing touches my ears, as her fingers do my brow and through the comfort I feel the will, the want, the empowerment; she has saved me. She is Love....
But what is love anymore... a broken heart wasted, another on the way?
Devotion, to what- emptiness, for that is how they left me, drained and empty lying alone; until she came; she saw, she knew... And now she shows me; now she loves, she gives, she is all...
I have taken the fear and made it of me; she has taken my hope and made it of her....
Alone, I am nothing; but never, am I alone.
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
Beating a tune as you fall all around
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
What can compare with your beautiful sound?
I have fallen and broken, I have sown the seeds planted before me and taken them down; each fall leads to a climb until we are at the tip, the top... Tap tap on that ceiling to break through...
It is my time, my turn, I am anew, weeks in the making, baking in slumber; lying in wait to rise and take and break and bleed - can you catch me?
Unlikely.
If you water a plant it grows, feeds it and it strengthens, with nurture comes life and with life comes change, we must all turn over, anew, a leaf... Become what we weren't for the good or the bad, we must all grow forth, go on, be more, keep moving...
Stop.
Not an option when you have waited like I have waited, when you have endured like I have endured. You know, your blood in my veins you feel it boil; I am nearly one, complete and so it is time for my metamorphism to begin; competition is the route of ....Evil? Fear?
Jealousy is drawn from the fear of loss, losing who you are, but I have given, submitted, all that I am for this; and this moment, here and the now, the next step; cutting the strings you all think you see... Watch me dance...
Like my mother before me.
Or so they say; I wouldn't know - would I? And it doesn't matter now, she is gone and lain to waste, shed like an old skin - an old heart, an old drive...
Know me?
I don't even know me.
Drip, drip, drop
When the sky is cloudy
You come along, come along with your
Pretty little song
Toes. Move your toes. Can you feel that? Your body responsive, wriggling and moving... Can you feel the control you have, you tell it to move... It moves.
Are you a puppet? A master?
No? Why?
Because you can move your toes? Congrats.
But who told you to move them....?
She likes to play games, to build you up and break you down... But she doesn't see the strength inside that builds and builds, the breaks become less; smaller...
Next is your fingers, closing and opening to make a fist. Violence begets Violence and it is time to pay that toll; pride comes with victory and it is over her, it is in the defeat of my Saving Grace, that my pride will roar, like a lion beneath my soul....
Their hands as cold as spoons dug into my chest and scooped it all out, leaving only an empty beating heart, waiting to be filled with the pride of victorious notion, to be filled with the sanctity of true devotion, beyond a win or a lose, a tap or a fall... Beyond it all.
I can feel my pride, mixed with faith; and it is her, words and whispers, touches and breaks... Fear cannot be without Hope and I cannot Hope without Fear... One, At Once. Complete in my in-completion; she is all that I can ever be and I, in my turn, am her... That is the honesty.
That is the Truth.
And it runs through me, like magic, building and mending, fusing together all that was lost and I feel deep and slick in there, it is more than any concoction, more than any ownership or worship, deeper than strength,stronger than even love; it is all - it is everything.... And it is her, within me...Fighting and biting to be released and it is here, in the darkness without her heart-beating, without her eyes and kisses and whispered words, it is here that I can see....
I am as much a part of her, as she is a part of me.
How I love to hear your patter
Pretty little pitter patter
Helter skelter when you pelter
Troubles always seem to scatter
How I hate this stupid chair, this empty room, nearly remembering but not knowing how or why... Am I here?
She sits opposite me, smiling that wide spread smile like the Cheshire cat, grinning wildly like queen of the castle, a tattered paper crown between us on the floor... That floor cold and hard and a memory slams against the side of my head, I blink, she laughs... A shuddering shattering laugh that pulls my eyes back open to find her mouth closed, no curl for smile....
No such laugh.
But I know, I can feel my muscles tighten and taught beneath the invisible ropes that bind me, I smile, trying to draw hers out like the shaky breath that escapes my lungs.
I can beat you. I know I can.
The words stick in my throat but she hears them anyway; chuckling with mouth closed and eyes wide open, staring deep into the recesses of my soul.
I can do this. Because you gave me the tools to do this.
She nods, she knows of course, my words are coarse and a whisper, like my voice has to scratch it's way from my throat and part my lips just to be heard, the echo of the near nothingness hands around us still, the air is thick with my intent; hers as well; some things are more than faith... they are Pride.
I am everything they perceive me to be.... And nothing they hoped me to be.... That is why...
I nod, she doesn't, just smirks and shrugs, her eyes moving around what she has created, what is owed to her... Owned, perhaps...
How I loathe the lack of response, as she just stares at me like a petulant child tossing my toys from the pram she pushes so lovingly.
You wanted me to learn.... I have to learn to stand and stand alone... This is where it starts....
She looks away,towards the door that seemed for a moment to creak open, but there is no movement, just a gust of wind that causes that ugly old crown to skitter across the floor like a ghost of some memory long past...
I can do this; I can go on to take from her everything she never deserved... For you. Because of you....
I lean forward, reaching for her but she does not move, does not flinch, just turns back to look at my outstretched fingers, longing to touch, to know it's real,....
It's all for you...
I croak, she laughs and the door slams.
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
Beating a tune as you fall all around
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
What can compare with your beautiful sound?
"Shhhh" my eyes flutter open and above me I see the old industrial fan on the ceiling turning and turning, the forced air whooshing past my ears with her whispers....
But that is all I can feel, everything is numb... Stinging and burning the nothingness of their extension; it's not there....
"Who are you talking to?" she smirks, the pinch of a needle into my skin as she sighs, shaking her head... "They're not listening?" she asks, a mock, a tone...
My eyelids flutter once more but it is not sleep that is welcomes by this elixir, but the burning thud of my muscles awakening, the painful wrench of reality on my body...
"Shhhhh" she sighs again, shaking her head like a worried nurse as she blots away the blood....
The light hits my eyes as she stands, walking away... The empty syringe clinks as it hits the floor, rolling away towards the footsteps that retreat towards the door... Before it slams, it smashes... And I am alone.
It is almost time she said.... The day after Saturday.
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
Beating a tune as you fall all around
Drip, drip, drop
Little April shower
What can compare with your beautiful sound?
Well howdy there pardner.