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Previous - this entry written on November 27, 2004 at 6:39 pm - Next  "Consecrated" Left to their own devices, right now my fingers would be spilling out a rather bloodthirsty rewrite of an old, old story. Tempting to let them. Tempting to feel the chill of coastal late-night winds cutting through a sweater and a pair of jeans, black sneakers the closest I could come to boots, feeling the ache of a scar on my shoulder and the horrible flush of my face, my skin, my body betraying me as I try to feel only disgust and pity for the one being cut. Tempting to see Her eyes again, dark, rimmed with gold, voice drenched in whispers of blood and promises of pain no one else could ever really give me. Tempting to let my tears now echo tears then, unreal, hollow, making the dampness on my cheeks seem distant. Bearable. Tempting to write of the reunion, of the way soft sheets and soft skin seemed as hard and terrifying as steel and ice, achingly familiar, yet different. Tempting to try once again to describe the rush of emotions, the moment when I realized that my own curiousity had finally damned me, the way it felt to take those first few steps, knowing I was walking into the only true hell I could possibly imagine. Tempting to trace once again that warm flesh, to pretend that I am drowning now as I drowned then, falling into Her gaze and touch, surrender... gods, I don't dare surrender any more. I don't dare trust any more. Every damned time I think I've got it, I think it's safe, EVERY DAMNED TIME, something explodes and I'm left with singed fingers and hours staring at a computer screen, trying to write away the bitterness. Talking now. Talking with one of the few people who manages to be comforting when I can't face the world quite as strongly as I'd like. Talking... just talking, just conversation. Why do I want to cry? Why can't I STOP crying? I should be talking this over with Caleb, or trying to get ahold of Kadin, or... ehh. Obsession. Hell, if conversing with my Heart is enough to keep me calm, I won't complain. Anything that works. I have the horrible suspicion that tonight I'm going to get plastered. Seriously, completely, falling-down drunk. At least I don't listen to country music, neh? Although honestly, "Bleed" isn't much better. *twitch* Better music. Still depressing. Second update in less than an hour. Go me. Hosted by Diaryland - All Rights Reserved - Image, Layout, and Content copyright Jax Raven - - Do Not Feed The Moose - |
