crested, f a l l e n

that one day I will be, where I was
right there, right next to you
and it's hard, the days just seem so dark
the moon, the stars, are nothing without you

A gentle breeze, warm penthouse air. 

The smell of cherry. 

"Can I be excused?"

One small smile and I'm there again, cupped hands and citrus lips -- the child of the stars in my hands and I banked every smile I could come across. Staring through kaleidoscope eyes selling every blink and wink and hollywood smile, "Pillar Fray," a daughter's name, skin and pearly white teeth and hair, weaving between polished nails as Miss Opal's gentle breaths hold me like the sky holds the moon. 

Content in its existence. 

It's strange, loving gladiator children through a glass pane -- a young Opal's eyes staring into mine: my one success. Peridot's success, my good fortune, a decade's dying whispers in the palm of my hands, "it's an honor, baby." A dark room, void of everything more than an echo, "you should celebrate, Opal." The taste of cherry on my lips, gentle this gentle that - it's so tiring. It's so so tiring, yet anything harsher I've never been able to chance. 

I hold her hands, Pillar, a face so familiar and a soul even more so -- she won't make it. Cold hands, warm cheeks, the scent of cherry, and she had a face worth every damn dollar we could get her, down to the casket we built ourselves. Pillar felt so relaxed in my arms, as if she traveled all that way just to be in them and I knew she would die, as soon as I looked in her pretty blue eyes. 

The smell of cherry. 

Intertwined through the strands of hair like a ghost, sinking onto my skin and I've never been one for hatred; a tug at the soul, the quickest way to die. "Thank you," the sound of ice on a glass, the sound of dancing and liquid dreaming - a sip of champagne. 

"Sardonyx,"

"Yes, my dear," a royal dress, simple, pressed and kissed with golden flowers and she has always stunned me, Opal. "The least I could do, of course," a kiss from a queen, ten years of being alive, and I cross my heart all the same -- just one more, Lord. A solace night, two queens and Kai and it's everything to keep the cherry word off my lips-

"Pillar."

Something rough, a week's worth of waiting and, "Sampson, dear," he holds my hand. My baby holds my hand and watches his mother weep for the first time in forever -- "I need a second." And I hear the click of a door's hinge, the click of a soul taken, the most beautiful soul and something as gentle as the moon can't survive it. 

And I swear to the skies for never approaching Justice, mistakes on mistakes and every folly on my heart -- I never crossed his path. Never held Pillar to my chest from beyond that arena, and I never learned anything past that cherry heart; I can't stand the smell. And I never took Justice's hand, took upon the sword and put it on my own life in her place, but I could never. He's just another victor, another career. 

(“I’m afraid.”

“As you should be.”

“I don’t want to be afraid, though.”

“Reckless girl, we should all be afraid. When you’re not afraid then there’s nothing left to fight for. Never be fearless — it’s a foolish thing to think the world kind.”

“Maybe. I got to meet you, though — out of all of this, y’know? I got you.”

“Yes, you did. You have me.”

“I’m gonna be alone in there. Just Reese, Sam, and Myara, and-... Will you remember me, Sardonyx? If I don’t make it out?”)

Pillar was a clenched jaw. Stern shoulders, a gladiator child and I held her hand through a glass pane; with every flicker of the moon at night and every piece of family I could find with her here - Justice, Opal, myself - I could never do enough. Could never do anything past that of acceptance. 

(“You’ll be the moon,” she starts-)

Could never love a daughter more. 

(“And you’ll always be with me,” I finish.)