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Retrospective
Jun. 23rd, 2009 12:50 am***Disclaimer: This is probably a piece of crap, since it's past midnight, I just had a shower, and then this weird detective-movie / 'sin city' style voice-over narrative starts in my head. So I just wrote as it spoke, unedited, and kinda... felt a little crazy in the process.
They were two broken souls, both looking for retribution and salvation from the harshest of circumstance. She'd just been raped. His girlfriend had just killed herself. It was in the eyes, an intense focus on the present reality with no heed for past or future. The eyes weren't thinking, weren't planning two days ahead or wondering what to cook for dinner, they were in the now. Horrifically, pleadingly in the now.
At first, he could barely speak. Shyness engulfed him, he couldn't even look at her. Did not want to take in her beauty because dammit he was determined never to see beauty again. But in fighting so hard not to notice, he had to admit that he had. She offered him watermelon.
At first, she could barely move. Feelings of tension gripping her body caused merely by his proximity. Keeping up her guard, she distracted with conversation to stave off the awkwardness of silence. She noticed his shyness, his presence unthreatening yet very alive. He offered her the chance to see him again.
He was off limits even from the start. There was no chance at anything real, that was part of the charm. Fighting against a world that had shown so much wrong, grasping at the wrongness in a futile attempt to understand it, to be it, to see it and know it. Blasting into the darkness of uncertainty with reckless haste, no plans, not even packing hope.
They pushed forward with a commendable determination to self destruct. Pushing themselves and each other to exhaustion. The brightest flames burn out fastest, and may God have mercy to make it fast. And in the dreadful corners of pain, stripping back all pretense because what's the fucking point, they dug deep enough to see.
Precious soul. Shining and pure. For you: It. Will. Be. Alright.
Two souls entwined for salvation.
An angel sent.
Twisted together in their broken web.
It was healing that tore them apart.
I love you, D.
They were two broken souls, both looking for retribution and salvation from the harshest of circumstance. She'd just been raped. His girlfriend had just killed herself. It was in the eyes, an intense focus on the present reality with no heed for past or future. The eyes weren't thinking, weren't planning two days ahead or wondering what to cook for dinner, they were in the now. Horrifically, pleadingly in the now.
At first, he could barely speak. Shyness engulfed him, he couldn't even look at her. Did not want to take in her beauty because dammit he was determined never to see beauty again. But in fighting so hard not to notice, he had to admit that he had. She offered him watermelon.
At first, she could barely move. Feelings of tension gripping her body caused merely by his proximity. Keeping up her guard, she distracted with conversation to stave off the awkwardness of silence. She noticed his shyness, his presence unthreatening yet very alive. He offered her the chance to see him again.
He was off limits even from the start. There was no chance at anything real, that was part of the charm. Fighting against a world that had shown so much wrong, grasping at the wrongness in a futile attempt to understand it, to be it, to see it and know it. Blasting into the darkness of uncertainty with reckless haste, no plans, not even packing hope.
They pushed forward with a commendable determination to self destruct. Pushing themselves and each other to exhaustion. The brightest flames burn out fastest, and may God have mercy to make it fast. And in the dreadful corners of pain, stripping back all pretense because what's the fucking point, they dug deep enough to see.
Precious soul. Shining and pure. For you: It. Will. Be. Alright.
Two souls entwined for salvation.
An angel sent.
Twisted together in their broken web.
It was healing that tore them apart.
I love you, D.
