Sept 24, 2023 4:00:09 GMT
Farrin likes this
Post by Sada on Sept 24, 2023 4:00:09 GMT
My mother comes to me in my dreams.
She’s pretty, perfect. Everytime she cuts a path through the veil to me, she’s radiant, ethereal and majestically different. Like a version of her I’ve never seen before, yet know so intimately because that’s my mother. A thousand years, lifetimes, timelines could go by and I’d pick her apart from the crowd. She looks upon me. Smiles. They say you have that dream - that one shared dream, the one where your loved one hugs you - and that’s how you know they’ve moved on. I’m looking for her every night, waiting years for my hug.
On the eve of Mother’s Day, she came to me.
Sanguine liquid deluges her scales, a knife stabs her heart. She opens her arms to me, a scream frozen in place over her cracked lips, obsidian eyes seared into her visage. I’m screaming, I’m running - away from her as the serrated edge of another blade thrusts through her ribs -
Tears stain the pillow. My cold hands grasp all the harder to Farrin, face hiding into his own. I lay like that, paralyzed, till the sun spills through the window and onto his chestnut locks. I don’t think I’m breathing. Revenge is stuck, cold, superheated, in my chest with nowhere to go. It’s sour. It’s all encompassing. Pink-kissed fingertips curl around my love’s skin, holding on for dear life. He’s the only one who knows this feeling, knows the ugly inside of my heart. Knows the unending void of grief we get on a daily basis. The years only fester, intensify hell. Mother’s Day, the title of it anyway, guts us deeper.
I pull him closer. My head’s heavy. C’mon babe. Time for church, I wanna say, settling for a kiss over his forehead. Mhm… “I love you.”
We’d face it together. All things, him and I together as one.
Farrin
She’s pretty, perfect. Everytime she cuts a path through the veil to me, she’s radiant, ethereal and majestically different. Like a version of her I’ve never seen before, yet know so intimately because that’s my mother. A thousand years, lifetimes, timelines could go by and I’d pick her apart from the crowd. She looks upon me. Smiles. They say you have that dream - that one shared dream, the one where your loved one hugs you - and that’s how you know they’ve moved on. I’m looking for her every night, waiting years for my hug.
On the eve of Mother’s Day, she came to me.
Sanguine liquid deluges her scales, a knife stabs her heart. She opens her arms to me, a scream frozen in place over her cracked lips, obsidian eyes seared into her visage. I’m screaming, I’m running - away from her as the serrated edge of another blade thrusts through her ribs -
Tears stain the pillow. My cold hands grasp all the harder to Farrin, face hiding into his own. I lay like that, paralyzed, till the sun spills through the window and onto his chestnut locks. I don’t think I’m breathing. Revenge is stuck, cold, superheated, in my chest with nowhere to go. It’s sour. It’s all encompassing. Pink-kissed fingertips curl around my love’s skin, holding on for dear life. He’s the only one who knows this feeling, knows the ugly inside of my heart. Knows the unending void of grief we get on a daily basis. The years only fester, intensify hell. Mother’s Day, the title of it anyway, guts us deeper.
I pull him closer. My head’s heavy. C’mon babe. Time for church, I wanna say, settling for a kiss over his forehead. Mhm… “I love you.”
We’d face it together. All things, him and I together as one.
Farrin
