08-27-2018, 08:13 AM
[align=center][div style="width:400px; font-size:8.4pt;line-height:1.1;color:#000;font-family:arial;margin-top:3px;margin-bottom:3px;letter-spacing:0px;margin-left:0px;text-align:justify;"]Home. So simple a word and yet within it meaning seems to hold no bounds, borders blurred as each are drawn together, given to one another
Where the heart might reside if not a place where the head may find a gentle surface, the faces of whose who have come before and whose laughter seem silver bells, so gentle and sweet, objects cherished in a way few understand and brush aside for it seems a childish act. Caught within the silvered web of memory, softened by the harsh touch of nostalgia, it comes in many ways and none all at once, so fragile is it to hold, a concept more than it is an actual thing.
And yet to speak of the lose of such, to find your heart calling for those fragments it had gifted to special few and find only the echo coming back, it hurts in a way none may truly understand without feeling it themself. It is a silver knife pressed to the chest, blade sinking within the skin and so easily parting muscle, finding the heart struggling to beat. It is tears which gather about the chin and fall, so like diamonds as they sparkle, ugly sobs tearing through the body as you scream and beg, pleading for something never to be yours once more. So why do we continue to form these bonds, to allow people to become our homes, impermanent and so fragile, given to a love time tears apart with jagged claws?
Because there is nothing to life if it is not touched with love, no matter the end if might come to find.
They had felt the lose twice before, heart twisting in their chest though they had never understood the grief, all too young the first and shock had touched them, curling their belly until all they could offer was faint murmurs, speaking of a dream. This was different. Older and given to basic experience, if enough to understand, there was no large event nor build up, nothing to twist their mind and make it difficult to understand. Some part of them whispered of Suiteheart, the news of her departure too easily spread, something they had not wanted to believe, had hoped to be little more than a baseless, if cruel, rumour. And yet their stomach clenched as small dark paws beat a slow step into the earth, drawing them towards the garden, driven on by the smell of roses.
“Margy,” croaky tone rose from pale lips and already those eyes, so bright and golden, touched with a gentle innocence time had tried to hard to tear from them, shone with tears. It was all they could muster, the strength ebbing from them as she came into view, face scrunching up though the tears fell silent. About their chin they gathered until they fell, each a pretty little jewel sparkling for but seconds before it made contact with the earth, silence broken by a soft whimper.
It seemed thoughtless, each step jerky and given to lock joints that made them seem almost robotic, faint sound raising until it became soft words. “Please, wake up,” reaching down they pressed a tiny nose against her cheek, nudged ever so slightly, hoping she wasn't gone. Too late again. Teeth closed around their tongue and yet it couldn't contain the sobs, each tearing through the tiny body, shaking it until they couldn't stand any longer, collapsing by her. It took a great deal of strength but finally they pulled themself closer, curling against her, feeling her warmth fade. “I'm sorry...”
Where the heart might reside if not a place where the head may find a gentle surface, the faces of whose who have come before and whose laughter seem silver bells, so gentle and sweet, objects cherished in a way few understand and brush aside for it seems a childish act. Caught within the silvered web of memory, softened by the harsh touch of nostalgia, it comes in many ways and none all at once, so fragile is it to hold, a concept more than it is an actual thing.
And yet to speak of the lose of such, to find your heart calling for those fragments it had gifted to special few and find only the echo coming back, it hurts in a way none may truly understand without feeling it themself. It is a silver knife pressed to the chest, blade sinking within the skin and so easily parting muscle, finding the heart struggling to beat. It is tears which gather about the chin and fall, so like diamonds as they sparkle, ugly sobs tearing through the body as you scream and beg, pleading for something never to be yours once more. So why do we continue to form these bonds, to allow people to become our homes, impermanent and so fragile, given to a love time tears apart with jagged claws?
Because there is nothing to life if it is not touched with love, no matter the end if might come to find.
They had felt the lose twice before, heart twisting in their chest though they had never understood the grief, all too young the first and shock had touched them, curling their belly until all they could offer was faint murmurs, speaking of a dream. This was different. Older and given to basic experience, if enough to understand, there was no large event nor build up, nothing to twist their mind and make it difficult to understand. Some part of them whispered of Suiteheart, the news of her departure too easily spread, something they had not wanted to believe, had hoped to be little more than a baseless, if cruel, rumour. And yet their stomach clenched as small dark paws beat a slow step into the earth, drawing them towards the garden, driven on by the smell of roses.
“Margy,” croaky tone rose from pale lips and already those eyes, so bright and golden, touched with a gentle innocence time had tried to hard to tear from them, shone with tears. It was all they could muster, the strength ebbing from them as she came into view, face scrunching up though the tears fell silent. About their chin they gathered until they fell, each a pretty little jewel sparkling for but seconds before it made contact with the earth, silence broken by a soft whimper.
It seemed thoughtless, each step jerky and given to lock joints that made them seem almost robotic, faint sound raising until it became soft words. “Please, wake up,” reaching down they pressed a tiny nose against her cheek, nudged ever so slightly, hoping she wasn't gone. Too late again. Teeth closed around their tongue and yet it couldn't contain the sobs, each tearing through the tiny body, shaking it until they couldn't stand any longer, collapsing by her. It took a great deal of strength but finally they pulled themself closer, curling against her, feeling her warmth fade. “I'm sorry...”