T R O U B L E . / VESCODY.
Feb 8, 2016 20:44:38 GMT -5
Post by я𝑜𝓈𝑒 on Feb 8, 2016 20:44:38 GMT -5
s t o r mwould you b l e e d for me?
lick it off my lips
like you n e e d e d me?
would you sit me on a couch?
When the sun sets, I smile. My lips twist crookedly, upwards into my cheek. They are curved, and crude. They are like scars. I watch it sink and choke and struggle- until it surrenders at last to the sky. It is bruised purple by the sun's battered fist, but darkness soon bandages it. By the time every last trace of daylight has been swallowed by the moon and the stars and their child, the darkness, I am already half way out the window, hanging on by my fingers. I am only hanging on by one hand- the other is clutching a beer bottle by the neck. Gaze aimed to the ground, fingers slowly slipping slipping slipping, I let myself fall softly to the ground from the low height of my bedroom window.
I've done this so many times, one would think that I have mastered the art of escape and the art of falling. I would claim that I fall with grace, if I did not have such a clumsy step and fall on my ass nearly every time. (But at least I'm not breaking any bones or bruising any skin.) I'm a klutz, goddammit, not a panther.
Sand sprays onto my jeans, kicked up from its resting place by my feet. When I rise, I dust it all off with a grunt, and take a swig from my drink. Fire rushes down my throat in one heavy stream, but I do not choke against the burn or tip the bottle back to halt its flow. I let it take me, I let it burn.
When I lower the bottle and skip along the streets to the party around the block, I taste alcohol, harsh and sharp, but warm. I do not find it acrid; it is heavenly to me, in a strangely bitter way. Perhaps it is not the taste, but the fire that comes with it.
At this rate, I will be done with the whole bottle by the time I reach the party.
My sneakers make scuffing sounds as I chase pebbles along the winding sidewalks. I pass shops and bars and cafes, all marked with a closed sign and lack of light. My eyes dart across the streets as I walk, keeping time to the steady beat of my heart.
I take another swig of my beer before I see her- before I see them.
And every muscle in my body turns rigid.
There are two figures, hidden in the shadows, between two old buildings with boarded up windows and vines crawling up their sides. One is a girl, tall and elegant, and the other- I cannot make out anything about them other than that they are a creature, with a heartbeat, possibly.
She is midnight. She is mystery, with her shadowy shroud and her turned back, revealing only dark hair, leaking like liquid ebony from her scalp. She faces someone whose body is consumed, head to toe, in darkness- black hoodie, black jeans, black boots. They look like the shadows themselves. They are darkness, if darkness was a person.
They raise all the hairs on the back of my neck to the sky and turn my entire body into a statue made of ice. I feel like a deer in headlights, but fear has wiped my mind clean of solutions, so I just stand there like an idiot and await my death sentence.
I can't fucking breathe.
My lips are glued together by silence: I do not have a death wish. Not even I am reckless enough to sputter a careless greeting. But it is no matter, for my stillness and silence betrays me. I cannot see their eyes- I cannot see anything but their outline- but I know the moment their gaze catches my figure in the dark. I know, because that is the exact moment my heart stops.
And they bolt. They are gone in a blur of shadow, before I can hardly register the sudden movement. My hands ball into fists and my knuckles turn white as chalk as my eyes strain into the dark. I watch the night swallow them.
I inhale sharply, in a half catching my breath, half gasping, as I stare empty of everything but fear and strange curiosity at the girl in shadows. It is as if my mind has gone numb: I wait for the thoughts to race around and around and around in my head, but there is nothing but a hollowness. It rings out cold.with your fingers in my mouth?
you look so cool when you're reading me
let's cause a little t r o u b l e
oh, you make me feel so weak