2004-05-17
*breaks a bottle* Cold As Winter

hearing: Cruel And Pretty - Over The Rhine
reading: Othello by Shakespear and Vanity Fair by William Makepeace Thackeray
wearing: pajamas

*crashes a bottle to the floor and lets the contents spill about her feet and fumes waft through the air*

...so beautiful, but cold like the winter. I want to get close but you hide every time...

Oh yes indeed. I recieved that compliment just this evening and I think that hardly a truer word has been spoken of me...

My eyes are so dry and parched...They sting like the heat of the day during the indian summer... Hard and shut are my tear ducts for these bright blue eyes have forgotten what it is to cry...

The unshed tears run like knives down through my soul, where they turn to streaks of bitter, icy blood. The struggle within my breast grows more desperate as I cry out inwardly, for I can no longer express the pain I feel outwardly.

Nothing but the dark and haughty princess of frost. When the tears gather on the surface, she shoves them back farther for no one may see her weakness, she feels nothing, nothing touches her, she is strong as steel and bears tragedy far better than anyone around her.

So that is how it runs...

and it cut her to the quick...

Are the smiles and laughter merely contrivances?

Tiresome darling...ever tiresome...I myself am utterly sick of you...How much more are they? Some more than others to be sure. Let them be in their own worlds... Shush...no more... tis all you are made of...selfishness...hush now...

I'll be back when I am more composed...

*turns back to her tower and locks herself in her tiny room behind many many cold, locked steel doors*

before & & after