Eight minutes and twenty seconds while the earth beckons for light. Though it feels like an instant. The heat radiates like peace, a sudden calm. The light removes the plight of the night. Blinding me from hate and strife. As I see it climbing towards me, approach from afar I welcome that brilliant star. And with each sunset I am left with a picture that has become a fixture in my mind, the warmth of your smile.
Before anyone freaks out, this is an old poem. Peace out, A.B.
Caution! Person contains lithium battery, do not tamper with or touch! Product is already damaged but not that much. At least that’s what everyone keeps telling him. Person runs on a lithium battery because person cannot function without it. Person is sick of the lithium power cell making him gain weight, the hunger he cannot sate, and constant hand shakes. Person is about ready to remove battery through force. Every other person says he needs to get over things faster. Everyone else hates the battery! And… Continue reading “Lithium Battery”
Sorry guys for my absence. I have what feels like worms. I can eat nothing without it hurting. Also, in my struggle with illness I have been writing a little bit of an experiment. I don’t know if I even want anybody reading it right now. Anyway, continue enjoying the adventures of Elayne and the Cord. This is A.B. and I am dying inside.
Elayne sat in the ready room waiting for the inevitable. She’d already changed into a simple blue dress and brown boots. She had combed out her silver hair by herself, she was too nervous to allow enchanted brushes to do it.
The Cord of Fate was stretched out to its full length before her; all three feet extracted from her skull and laying untethered on a table beside her. It glowed and pulsed softly with her heartbeat. The diadem rested alone on one of the counters that lined the walls.
Elayne, usually the picture of composure, the master of any situation, was riddled with anxiety. She had worn the diadem for eighteen years. It had been reshaped and resized but never removed from the Cord until now. She couldn’t even remember when she last had the Cord moved; all she knew was what they had told her about it. Continue reading “Red Cord of Fate Part Four”
The glass is broken with every word spoken. I was crass. The thoughts of a razor’s edge is gaining mass. But the glass was broken with a single blast. That raised voice, that anger. I said sorry a thousand times and was forgiven yet the shards still dig into every thought. The glass I see out of was fresh and clean but now it is going to cut me. I can see just clear enough to dismantle a razor. This is not blazing any new ground. Why do I want to swallow a round of lead? I am broken and I can’t find the one that always picks up the pieces. I can’t see, aren’t I supposed to be happy?
Image Source: DawnAllynnStock
Roy broke from his spot at the end of the line. Without looking at any of the ones he passed he made his way to the center of the line. He stopped at the tall woman with horns.
“ May I call you Elayne?”
“ You can call me whatever you like, Roy.” Elayne smiled and shifted her eyebrows.
“ Okay then.” His stoic face twitched slightly.
She heard a stifled snicker come from another girl. Someone had a sense of humor.
“Then Elayne,” Roy recovered. “I would like you to meet Specialist Bass. She is skilled at… she’s… I am sorry Aurora, I don’t want to base all your qualifications on your race.”
“ It’s fine, I don’t mind,” said the woman with a tiny smile. Her voice was full yet soft.
“Alright then, Aurora, since it seems you prefer first names, she is a Bovinae. They are feared for their strength and near invulnerability. I have witnessed her break through brick walls with her bare hands. And I have watched bullet, arrow, spear and sword graze or bounce off of her. If I was without my magic, then I am unsure if I could best her.
There is no smoke to the fire that burns inside my head. I can see the lights flaring, it’s glaring, burning through nights where I should be having fun. Every piece of wood on the fire is a phrase or idea uttered by another person. This is not a case of arson, I swear. They gave me the fuel with every statement I took the wrong way. Now I have to pay for their mistakes. I have a cabinet full of water that’s supposed to work. But why am I the one that hurts? Is this the way fires starts without a spark? When did it start to engulf every cell of my mind? Please God, someone find me even a glass of water. How much longer can it burn? I found her who puts a blanket over the flame, but every other thing she says burns a piece of fabric away.
I am supposed to be happy. I spent weeks in hell where the fire was a mere candle to the inferno around me. I am supposed to happy. I love her but the water doesn’t always work. I am the only one that hurts. There is no smoke from the fire burns away my soul. But each day there is always more coal.
Image source: yasincrow
I trace my fingers across wings as fragile as a butterfly’s. These are mine. They shoot forth from a back that twists too much. A fingertip is all use for I might crush. There is much beauty to touch. They let her fly into my dreams. They carry her through life, these fragile wings. They flutter when she sings along to the radio as graceful as a bell rings. She knows all the words and even though I have heard every line a million times like a hour chimes I still find the wonder in it all. This rush of wings drives my hand to write. I fight for each flutter, each flap, til I have nothing left. I own only the love that she has given to me. But I own these wings that others can’t see.
Image source: Dreamweaver69