Like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
Melita wished she could say a chord of strings and verses to cease his pain, to varnish and wash it all away, for it to cease pervading through every breath and every step. Instead, she tugged him along and tried not to break apart herself, for the helplnessness, for the inability to do absolutely nothing but watch them fall into shambles, to crumble into themselves, to become immersed in confusion and self-torment. Why can’t you do anything curled inside her mind and clawed, scratched, tried to get its way out, but there was no use, and she was only a steady, stalwart thing bending around nooks and crannies, shuffling through the snow, keeping the tears held back.
Because she’d found him, at least. And that had to amount to something in this crazy, agonizing world.
A story was agreed upon, and she found herself making one up on the spot – nothing peaceful correlating to her brain at the moment, scattered amongst and amidst the memories. “There was a beautiful butterfly, and she was entranced by the loveliest of sounds.” Her sister; it could be like her sister, little Clementine, whose lantern was back home, and they were going to go there – every single god damned one of them. “One day, she heard a merry laugh, and she flew towards a field of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen – but she didn’t stop. She kept following the refrains.”
Because she’d found him, at least. And that had to amount to something in this crazy, agonizing world.
A story was agreed upon, and she found herself making one up on the spot – nothing peaceful correlating to her brain at the moment, scattered amongst and amidst the memories. “There was a beautiful butterfly, and she was entranced by the loveliest of sounds.” Her sister; it could be like her sister, little Clementine, whose lantern was back home, and they were going to go there – every single god damned one of them. “One day, she heard a merry laugh, and she flew towards a field of the most beautiful flowers she had ever seen – but she didn’t stop. She kept following the refrains.”
Melita
