O' HOLY NIGHT .

      a  deplorable  being  indeed  –  would  unequivocally  not  address  himself  as  mirthful  for  his  petulant  sullenness  so  vehemently  mountainous  if  anything  it  is  outlandish,  atrocious  —  an  assailing  tornado,  a  pandemonium  out  off  the  nihility  sojourning  within  his  thorax.  thence  venomous  malevolence  takes  form  on  countenance  proffering  naught  but  contempt  and  animosity,  choler  so  astronomical  it  makes  his  ichor  seethe  with  ire  of  forsaken  nursling  at  the  turnstile  of  heaven  and  the  sluices  of  the  abyss.  fury  in  his  eyes,  kindling  her  figure  whole  until  in  his  vision  she  is  ablaze.      ❛  who  do  you  think  you  are…  ❜      how  dare  she  ?  how  dare  she  !  how  dare  she  ?!  to  satirize  a  supreme  being  as  himself  is  one  thing  alas,  to  sermonize  of  him  to  regale  her  just  exceeds  all  his  postulations  until  he  is  skinned  out  of  his  grandiosity  and  now  indignation  tinctures  his  vision  in  cautionary  crimson  which  cannot  be  sluiced  off  –  not  by  his  palms  which  gesticulate  towards  her  larynx  to  throttle  the  vulgar  impertinence  out  of  her  lungs  or  with  his  razor  sharp  teeth  clenched  to  halt  himself  from  gnawing  onto  her  flesh.  sole  vitriolic  sardonicism  remains  at  the  crux  of  his  quintessence,  on  the  tip  of  his  tongue.

      ❛  i  can  always  pull  your  guts  out  –  i’ve  always  found  that  to  be  extremely  amusing  !  ❜

           Crimson   deluge’s  the  rivulet  ,      accursed   to  odious  nightmares  that  slither   neath ‘  the  cemetery  of  ones  chest   ,        laid   within   tragedy’s  tapestry   does   the   malevolence   and   dictation   stand   to   rest   .         anguish  was   the   sharpest   teeth   that  nail  and   jibe   gratingly   into  skin   .        oh ‘   virulent   sovereign    ,        darling  devil   !       only   did  she  believe  she  was   the  most   gratifying   ,       most   meriting   .       deluded    story   told   nether   dilapidated   pinion   .        the  wrench  simpers   ,      sharpened  hues  glance  yet   minacious  delectation  grips  exsanguine   bosom  .      ‘  do   humour  me  child   .   ‘        laugh  follows  ,       echo’s  of  lips  ,     drumming  of  sound  ,      revoltingly  syrupy  does  it  soak  into  putrid  air   .      insouciance  was  a  beguiling   exhibit   ,      a   performance   of  one’s  ruined   soul  that  the  gods  laugh   towards      . 

               honey    dripped vox calls out to her .  two sisters enjoying their company with movies playing before them  after a much needed time .  everything had been going well   , fingers laced as the elder snuggled up to her younger sister .  that was until flora spoke up causing the movie to turn into white noise in the background as her eyes fall up towards the younger beauty .  she sees it  —  anxiety that bubbles in flora’s eyes when she needs to clear her emotions and thoughts .   something is weighing     heavily     on her sister’s mind and its enough to bring all her attention on the angel before her .  ❛  are you alright ?  tell me , what’s troubling your mind , babe ? ❜  affection tone falls but one that is coated with worry and    u n s e t t l e m e n t      of her own .   was no hiding that ianthina had grown very fond of the girl in front of her   , enough to dub her as her sister although blood did not tie them .     g e n t l e      is the squeeze that her fingers give to the other , telling her that she is always going to be around for the other .  no matter what was to be said tonight .   ❛   what has you so uneasy , flora ?   ❜

            Intricate  blitheness   ,   ian   was  the   lady   made  of   cherished  daylight   .  a  lavation  into  eden  that  embraced  one’s  being  within  palms  of  the   softest  hands   .      A   gentle  beauty  that  offered   nix  but  the  sweetness  from  her  vox   ,  a  woman  who  cared   and  was  one  flora   adored   .    ‘   i’m   okay   my   sweet   .    ‘      tongue   sweeps  over  seemingly   dry  lips   ,  her  entire  body  feeling   adust  when   revelations   deem  a  heavy   weight   on  her  heart    .  It  wasn’t  part  of  her   nature  to  keep  things  from  the   people   she  loved    .  But  in  this  instance  time  had  been   swept  away  from  her  ,  every  moment  that  was  right  to  tell   her  never   was   and  thus   ,   a   whole   year   had    passed  and  the   words   still  hadn’t   fallen  out   of  pink   lips    .   

- ̗̀ ❛ starter ; @floires ❜   ̖́ - ↳ plot ; Our muses always meet up in the park and play chess but they’ve never had a real conversation because of Marvel’s social anxiety and today, he’s trying.

A different color on each eye, both halves of his hair dyed a different color and the lack of words coming out of his lips and he wonders how the latter never commented on his weird appearance or calm demeanor. His first instinct tells him that the other probably thinks they’re a freak of nature, but he reassures himself saying that they wouldn’t be sitting with him and playing chess if they thought so negatively about him anyways. He takes a glance at the other when it’s their turn and bites his lower lip, unsure of what to say. He clears his throat,  ❛  So, what do you think of birds ?  ❜  He releases a nervous chuckle, making a split second of eye contact before his eyes fall onto the squares of the chess board. Birds, there could be a better subject but he could only think of Coco, his bird.

    Judgemental  antics  were   nix  but   a   non-existent  reach  for  negativism  ,       one  that  ying  would  never  clasp   .     Herself  made   of  the  mellow   afternoon   breeze   ,        beating  heart   laid  to  rest  within  the   solace   of   tranquillity    .        only   the  careen  of  tree’s   or  the   infrequent  bell   of  a  passing  stranger  that  maladjusted   the   placidity   that  momentarily  remained   .        she   was   not  one  to  judge   .         it  wasn’t  in  such   polymer’s  that   shaped  her  being  .       nor   the  ichor  that   danced   through  her  veins   .       He  was  just  a   person   ,       held  no  disfavor   and   never   could  she   ever   . 

  “Ooh,” the witcher cooed, the simple sound teeming with serrated blades of sarcasm, tauntingly waving about between them. “Did I offend you, your highness?” A simper of arrogance bloomed across lips embellished with a few swipes of matte onyx lipstick. The ghost of plump tiers imprinted themselves in a fainter shade that lined the rim of her glass of beer. Chanté drew another long sip from the pint, eyes falling to a brief close a she savored the heavy blend of malted hops, barley, and yeast. It had only been a few weeks since she first stumbled upon the woman seated across from her. Des’ appearance was what initially peaked her interest, giving her cause to introduce herself. The aggressive shake of her silver medallion, however, was what made her stay.          This was perhaps the third or fourth time they had met to enjoy more than a couple of drinks and Chanté was still no closer to discovering why the trinket around her neck was so rattled. There was obviously something different about Des – one didn’t require an enchanted item to see that. The sooner she discovered what this was, the sooner their entertaining squabbles and banter would come to an end. Chanté wasn’t so willing to give that up just yet. All those sharpened daggers and potions she kept hidden away wouldn’t need to be used until required. Whoever – or whatever – Des was, there had been no sign of her posing a threat to those around in the city. So far.          The blonde leaned forward, breasts resting atop the edge of the bar’s wooden table beside her drink, and hiked a brow, lifted with curiosity. “Do you not agree that dating apps and bars – like this one – are just filled with sacks of meat ready to be sucked dry and tossed aside?” Her disdain for commitment was hard to miss amid each facetious remark and the glimmer of reckless abandon in her dark eyes. 

        𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬  𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞  𝐨𝐧  𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐚  𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫  ,       rightful   passage  to  closed  gates   ,    inferno  deemed   a  place  of  rest  for  such  a   fauna  as  herself   ,     residence  was  enough  of  one  already   without  her  feet  decaying  earth’s  landscapes  merely  because  she  does  not  decay  herself  .       devil’s  wonder  grips  the  hands  of  it’s  predators   ,        flesh  dug  holes   ,        empty  abysm  to  the  barricade  of  mass  ,        pain  was  never  ending       ,     she  liked  that  about  things   .    ‘  now  now  little  one   .  ‘        far   more  interesting  to  flick   the  dirt       (   dried   blood    .    )        off  already  perfect  nails   ,   hides  the  blaze  building  under  her  skin   ,   hidden  neath’  turn  of  a  smile  ,   flash  of  pearly  white’s  .   It’s  all   a  game  after   all  .  Not  many  did  come   once  and  stay   after   .    Those  whom   did   stay  only  did  so  for  one   of  two   reasons   :   they   needed   something   or  knew   more   then   they   were   letting   on   .

           ‘    you’re   like  a  little  lion   .  ready  to  pounce   on  whoever  takes  your  interest   .     ‘   baleful  chortle  ,  supposed   to  be  evidently  kind  (  fake   )  but   there’s   nothing  but   the gelidity  of   her  tone  that  follows  .

  turn  of  a  clock      ,      go  back  ,      turn  back  !      they  say    .     but  she  cannot  turn  back  time      .       delectable  being  she  was     ,     tuned  perfectly  for  the  richest  of  sonata    ,      softest  of  hands  ,      marble  touch  to  rake  in  her  demons  for  they   are    whom  watched  beneath  the  shadows  and   wanted  a  show  ,     and  a  show  she  shall  give  .   oh    what  gall  can  devour  one’s  being   ,       true  testament  to   how  we  are   ,  how  we   live  .       but  she   ,       desdemona  was  the  pitchforks  and  firebeds  made  just  her  her  reasoning   .  

                ding  ding  !   Gleeful  euphony  chimes  in  her  auricle  ,         simple  loading  button  to  be  seen   as  she  waits  for  her  friends  face  to  appear   .                  bottom  of  the   well    see’s    the      stardust    of  her  being  ,          she  was  the  stars  in  the  night  reflected  in  her  smile    .     descendent   of   kisses    ,     a  beautiful     blessing     of  shooting   stars  that    grips  her  soul  so  close  ,       so   tight .      playful   hint  in  hues  of   northern  skies  ,       joyousness    bubbling  in  her  veins  ,        fervour that  sways  her  body  ,       shows  in  her  eyes   and  how  they  light  when  his  face   appears  through  her  laptop   .  

 how  beautiful  is  it  to  find  a  heart  that  yearns  for  naught  other  than  your  well  being.  a  pair  of  arms  that  grasp  onto  an  impaired  man  and  mend  him  whole  so  seamlessly,  he  is  born  anew  with  benediction  and  beatitude  –  the  world  is  colored  once  more  and  the  weeping  canopies  cease  their  lamenting  and  clear  room  for  the  sun.  as  he’s  candidly  avowed  many  times  before  ;  she  is  his  sun  and  he,  merely  a  barren  star  orbiting  around  her.  a  terebinth,  his  statue  to  supplicate  to  and  sacrifice  a  piece  of  his  heart  now  melted  in  front  of  his  like  wax  and  in  this  scalding  sensation  he  is  ablaze  ;  skin  seething  with  incineration,  he  is  cauterized  to  the  bone  by  the  gelid  wind  that  her  words  proffer.  by  that  frigidness  that  wraps  around  him  alike  an  icy  blanket,  his  heart  drops  to  the  ground  and  disintegrates  and  oh,  the  ache.  the  ache  is  so  monumental  that  when  he  glances  at  her  his  throat  becomes  parched  like  a  dessert.  no  tears  can  redeem  him  from  the  sins  he  has  committed  and  yet,  they  cannot  be  halted  as  well.  oceans  of  sorrow  descend  of  his  brown  eyes,  sparkling  with  despondency  and  contriteness  –  alas,  such  ruefulness  no  matter  how  patent  cannot  engender  clemency  within  her  incapacitated  thorax.  

     ❛    my  love,  i–  i  didn’t  mean  to….  ❜  

     flora.  she,  a  soul  of  exaltation  that  even  the  lords  above  have  yet  to  attest  with  their  devout  observation  –  silken  intentions  and  silver  linings…  she’s  never  capitulated  to  the  indignation  and  revulsion  this  world  is  flooded  by,  only  magnanimity  filled  her  to  the  brim.  a  woman  so  fictitious  by  such  philanthropy,  that  no  verbosites  could  ever  substantiate  to  her  splendor  even  if  the  utmost  talented  poets  had  endeavored  to.  a  blissful  embrace  in  the  midst  of  the  storm,  he  was  born  a  stripling  of  now  only  joviality  and  altruism.  flora,  all  he  ever  did  was  for  her  sake  alone.  slanders,  lies !  –  do  not  confide  in  these  contemptible  woes  that  the  demons  in  your  mind  tale  tell  you  of  – entomb  them  deep  in  the  oceans  of  love  you’ve  accumulated  for  this  young  man.  oh,  woe  to  him  !  how  dare  he  repudiate  all  that  she’s  uttered  when  he  acquires  so  well  of  the  scars  and  holes  in  her  heart.  he’s  poured  his  soul  into  hers,  even  at  the  cost  of  encountering  his  demise  much  sooner  than  appointed,  all  for  her  sake.

     ❛    all  i  ever  did  was  out  of  my  desire  to  protect  you.  that’s  all  i  ever  wanted,  flora.  i  was  trying  to  protect  you  from  all  this…  evil  around  us–  i  was  trying  to  keep  you  happy,  and  i…  gosh,  flora…  i  didn’t  mean  to.  ❜      it  must  be  so  lovely  to  have  a  heart  all  for  your  own  taking  –  he’s  gifted  it  to  her  with  zilch  apprehension,  no  second  contemplation.  he  was  hers  as  she  was  his.  no  one  would  have  sufficient  vigor  nor  valor  to  subjugate  such  love…  and  now  ?  he  is  petrified  it  is  curtailed  entirely.  now  this  love  is  enfolded  deep  in  the  forest  and  the  crows  hover  above,  cooing  baleful  as  they  await  to  ravenously  gnaw  at  the  flesh.  

       if  only  could  he  taste  the  sweetness  of  her  overrefined  tiers  once  again  –  unblemished  simper  of  a  goddess  walking  upon  earth  and  gracing  his  otiose  ubiety.  but  as  he  draws  close  so  does  the  interval  amidst  them  is  amplified,  and  her  hands  no  longer  can  be  held  warmly  within  his.  even  as  he bewails  under  the  rose  (  while  venturing  onerously  )  to  desist  the  tears,  he  suffocates  on  his  own  mackles.  he  is  only  a  man,  a  boy…  unavailing,  redundant…  all  he  ever  did  was  for  her  love  and  her  love  only.  all  he  ever  did,  all  the  mistakes…  his  heart  was  hers.  it  shall  always  be.  rip  it  out  of  his  thorax  and  manducate  it  raw  –  as  long  as  it  engenders  gratification  to  his  precious.  

     ❛    forgive  me,  please.  i  never  meant  to  hurt  you…  i  just  wanted  to  protect  you.  all  these  lies  were  just  to  keep  you  safe…  you  know  i  love  you  and  i’d  never–  god,  i’d  never  betray  you–  i–i…  i  love  you.    ❜  

     yet,  he  is  trampled.  these  gaffes  cannot  be  condoned,  can  they  ?  her  trust  is  invaluable  and  he  –  with  all  the  impertinence  a  man  can  possess  –  has  splintered  it.  he  implores  her  to  pardon  but,  apprehends  that  he’s  far  too  deep  in  the  grave  he’s  dug  for  himself  to  be  able  and  get  her  hand  to  yank  him  out  of  this  colossal  maleficence.  he  can  only  observe,  can  only  remain  in  quietude  if  she  opts  to  forsake  him.  and  the  forlorn  sensation  creeping  within  betwixt  his  lungs  throttles  him,  it  shall  be  his  novel  companion,  he dreads.  

     ❛    please…  i  love  you…    ❜  

        𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧  𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝   𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝  𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐭  𝐨𝐟  𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬  𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞  ,   brimmed  with  the  bleeding  from  a  lies  force  .   imperfection  was  the  devils  mercy  to  amend  for  iniquitous  actions,   perched  within  the  cadaverous  dactyl’s  does  one’s  life  seem  worthless  when  the  one  you  trusted  to  never  lie  to  you  did  exactly   that  .    Derisory  ,  a  baleful  type  of  monstrosity  that  seemed  to  loom  over  shoulders  in  an  amorphous  form  .    a   new  type  of  evil  neath’  god’s  wings  ,  austere  iniquity  in  contrast  to  once  white  .  Sinlessness  was  merely  a  disregarded  supplication  to  whomever   was  listening  ,  yet  apparently  nobody  was   .  How  injurious  it  seemed   .   oh ‘   lover  who  breathes  a  new  type  of  life  into  the  soul  of  the  woman  that  had  once  been  so  lost  .  so  saccharine   but  neath’  surfaces  mind  had  turned  so  malodourous  .   shards   stuck   deep  within  skin  much  like  the  prick  of  a   thorn  .  There  was  no  soft  caress     ,   good  volition   was  nothing  more  then  a  acrimonious  desire  to  turn  back  time  ,  to  hope  it  was  only  an  abominable  dream  to  which  the  woman  would  wake  from  and  thus  be  free  from  such  weight  the  pelted  down  like  ponderous  downfall  on  a  disregarded  heart   -   she  was  in  for  no  such  luck   once   more   .

         ‘  namoo   .  ‘   pause    .    ‘  I  don’t  know  who  you  are  any  more   .   ‘

    Empyrean’s   blessing     /    inferno’s  odium    .    was  there  such  difference  in  the  end ?  dear  man  made   from  the    cerulean  skies   ,   beloved  flower  oh   my  did  you  bloom  !   turned  from  a  seed  beneath  the  earth’s   hands     .   on  and  upwards  towards  that  beauteous  chasm  ,  an  eternity   to  which  you  will  only  find  the  wickedness  that  had  once  exhausted  you  to  the  brink  of  decease   .   Agape  cicatrix   ,  burn  of  toxicant  or  maybe  even  medicine  that  benumbed  one’s  being   ,  a  settling  wretchedness  that  only  ever  started  to  fade  a  second  before  the  excruciation  came  back  one  more   .  darling   ,  one’s  anguished  spirit  that  has  see  too  much  ,  felt  too  little  .  Yet  nix  would  equivalence  to  the  treachery  of  the  woman’s  soulmate   .   seemed  as  though  she  could  still  hear  pieces  breaking  into  more  and  more  of  their  own   .  maybe  she  would  drown  in  such  lugubriousness   .  Asphyxiate  within  the  fiend’s  that  twist  round  her  veins  and  drain  her  of  the  love  she  was  always  worthy  of  having  .  Snags   at  her  pharynx  , fire  that  ascent’s  through  body  made  of   a   flame   .   Breathless  she  stands   ,   orbs  tear  filled  ,  lachrymose  willow  ,  the  woman  wishes  to  cry  but  thinks  if  she  starts  she  may  never  stop   .

‘     is  that  all  I  am  namoo  ?   am  I  some  damsel  in  distress  that  needed  the  aid  of  someone  that   would  offer  ?   I  am  not  weak   namoo  .    ‘   grind  of  teeth  ,  sharply  spat  does  the  response  sit  .  Such  choler  ,  seldom  seen  from  the  woman  made   of  warmth  and  virtue   .  ‘   you  know  what  I’ve  suffered  through  ,  what  I’ve  survived  namoo   .   You  know  exactly  what  I’ve   done  to  still  be  here  and  living  this  life   .  I  never  expected  to  get  this  far  you  know  .  ‘

    Grasp  the  hands  of   the  fallen  woman  !  she  heeds  to  the  pain  that  settles  betwixt  what  she  wishes  was  a  hollow  chest  .  To  not  feel  ever  so  swarming  sting  that  drags  and  poisons  her  body  like  a  pestilence  .   How  could  such  tears  not  fall  ?  skin  and  bones  was  the  woman  without  that  love  .  Namoo  had  become  the  stars  in  her  sky   ,  an  abyss  once  empty  without  any  sight  of  hope  within  the  clutches  of  her  frail  hands   .  Still  ,  he  came   ,  the  man  made  of  sunshine  and  the  most  sightly  of  dreams  and  offered  her   more  love  then  she  ever   could  have  asked   for  .   but  where  did  that  love  really  sit  now  ? 

‘   before  I  met  you  namoo   .  I  still  survived   .   somehow  even  though  I  had  absolutely  nobody  for   so  many  years  apart  from  the  isolation  that  I  felt  after  my  father   died   .  I  was  left  with  a  new  version  of  hell   I  never  asked  for  ,  never  would  have  wanted  .  But  even  though  I  had  to  learn  so  much  so  fast  ,  had  to  sacrifice  everything  i  ever  had  or  ever  wanted ,   I  still  made  it  here  namoo  .  somehow  I  still  came  out  of  the  rubble  without  anyone's  protection  but  my  own   .   ‘  

Noble  tears   fall  ,  starlight   paints  down  the   flowers  soft  features   .  broken  she  was  neath’  harsh  exterior  .  coping  mechanism  for  trust  was  broken   .

         𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐨𝐟   𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐜𝐲     ,       playful  glint  in  hues  of  northerly  luminosity  .       the  cherished   child  whom  was  finely  bathed  within  the  skies  waters  ,       dreams  upon  the  tips  of  fingers  and  the   heartfelt  kindness  with  a  smile  ,      she  was  an  angel   .      but  whom  could  stop  such  an  adoring  butterfly   from   spreading   her  wings  and  flying  cross ’    masses  of  ocean  blue  ?           let  her  fly      for  she  has  been  kept  alone  for so  long ,          o’  dearest  whispers  do  hear  her  pleading ,           for  she  does  not  know  what  she  has  seen  in  that  of  her   past  nor  does  she  understand  what  to  expect  in  the  future  ,       yet  still  ,      she  wasn’t  alone  any  more    .           the   girl  sits  ,        knee   pressed  against  her  friends  ,        slender  finger  tapping  against  the  softness  of  her  cheek  .