#nightwarn

the words rouse a certain redness in the very points of your malleable features,      bashful bruisings that you are desperate to conceal with the novel safeties you found beneath the expressionless mask.       it kept your identity as it kept your fallible guise,      anonymity brought with it a valuable vacuity:        as though nothing inside you passed your outer bearings,       apathy upon stone-cold, shapeless visage.      here, everything was plain to see:        to probe and dissect like that of an animal inside a menagerie.         here,      you became their entertainment.       you were unsure of what meaning belonged behind @nightwarn‘s comment;       still mesmerised by hulking, great presence that you surmised a reverie between the two of you,       rampant thoughts likely feigning the extent of his supposed fascination with your wild ingenuity.        his voice was tampered with an indifference you could not yet decipher,     a half-forced hoarseness that always managed to flatten his interest into a rather callousness.        was it all for show?        you supposed it may have to be,       given that he remains here in your company.      you smile coyly,       averting your gaze to the ground with a sudden shyness.       sandy hair hits the blazing beam of unshaded light and absorbs from it a haloesque tint,       and for a moment,       you could almost appear innocent.

ASK MEME,       how does your muse perceive mine?

                “fear is what divides us.”    fear is what keeps aliens in cages, and keeps metahumans in the shadows. fear fuels hate, and heart-ache — there’s no place for  fear  in a world that keeps evolving, for better or worse, with new communities. (there’s one that lives under nationaI city’s shadow — aliens, terrified of showing their true forms. I-corp’s image inducers run rife around the workplace, when all she wants to demonstrate is earnest  acceptance.)

“i’m glad you’re not afraid. i am. but there are a lot of people out there who are.”   (they fear  her,  which pains her like a kick to the stomach. they fear her from the synthetic kryptonite coursing through her veins, or the  power  that one punch instils. it’s a shame she holds heavily on her back. world-killer. earth-ender. is this who you want your children to admire? depend on? what if supergirI turns her back on us?)

❛ CAN WE BE WHO we need to be, can we accomplish what we need to accomplish, if we only exist in the shadows? ❜