bring me your suffering
the rattle roar of broken bones
the rattle roar of broken bones
Still finding the suggestion rather hilarious, she laughed, a bright and cheery disposition to unfurl with the rest of the chaotic bliss. Her kite flickered and turned in the wind, vivid and gold against the pocket of sky, and for half a second the Honeybee could simply exist without anything else –
And then there were thoughts.
Boondocks for outposts, that would probably have to be cultivated, altered, and changed. A land and region from the ground up, making its way from the past and all its graves and barrows, funnels of the fallen. Roads to connect and towns to construct, away from the hustle and bustle of Torchline or the Hollowed Ground or anywhere else she might’ve churned and burned on her way through the earth. She fell quiet.
Because Melita would never admit to loneliness, to the way she’d drifted aimlessly over the past few seasons, alone in the house besides her companions. She was used to taking care of herself. Had done so since she was very young, for there’d been no other options. Could raise her chin in defiance to the rest of the world over the most mundane, or the most disparaging. But with the notions of family again, close by, not stranded and strangled and tied off somewhere else, the temptation surged and beat against her impulsive mind.
Even his sentimentality wore at her, which grated as she furrowed her brows, wishing she somehow couldn’t be effected by another’s words. She had very little responsibility, save for one, and so that allowed her the greatest pause. “I’d…I’d have to check with Jack first.”
And then there were thoughts.
Boondocks for outposts, that would probably have to be cultivated, altered, and changed. A land and region from the ground up, making its way from the past and all its graves and barrows, funnels of the fallen. Roads to connect and towns to construct, away from the hustle and bustle of Torchline or the Hollowed Ground or anywhere else she might’ve churned and burned on her way through the earth. She fell quiet.
Because Melita would never admit to loneliness, to the way she’d drifted aimlessly over the past few seasons, alone in the house besides her companions. She was used to taking care of herself. Had done so since she was very young, for there’d been no other options. Could raise her chin in defiance to the rest of the world over the most mundane, or the most disparaging. But with the notions of family again, close by, not stranded and strangled and tied off somewhere else, the temptation surged and beat against her impulsive mind.
Even his sentimentality wore at her, which grated as she furrowed her brows, wishing she somehow couldn’t be effected by another’s words. She had very little responsibility, save for one, and so that allowed her the greatest pause. “I’d…I’d have to check with Jack first.”
the honeybee
Bring me the riot in your heart
angry, wild, and raw
angry, wild, and raw
