Post by rozália katona on Aug 23, 2017 6:23:51 GMT
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[PTabbedContent][PTab=BASIC][attr="class","appicon"]  | [attr="class","stappname"] ROZÁLIA KATONA [attr="class","appdivider"] [attr="class","appname2"]silvertongue |
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“Rozália Stefánia” they whispered, hushed, crowded, crowning her with the jewels of expectations thrown too high on the throne.
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“Voice of song,” they murmured.
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“Quick of tongue,” they boasted.
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All of these small tragedies embedded into her flesh, a printed prison code of a witch going to the stake for a crime she didn’t commit.
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Born in twos, flipped for a fate, clutching coin carved faces because the pockets kept changing— again and again, a new one appeared, rearing her sister and herself with no permanence, merely precedence for a burning.
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Treasure and luxury could only calm a beast for so long before the roar burst and the fire smoked out the lies; the neglect; the carelessness unexpected of parents who were supposed to know which card to play against a deck of children bet on from the day they were born.
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Parents who never threw down a winning hand.
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“Vengeance,” she would coo, amazed, drunk off of the victory, reeling from the fight; Aurélia and herself were no strangers to malignancy and mischief, and it was always something earned— parents should take care of their children, or their children will care only for themselves.
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And then they grew to fifteen before being thrown from the nest. It was a push too far, a flame too great, and the scorch marks they left ate their feet away from their home, but this didn’t stop them from flying.
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don't you tell me
what you think that i can be
“Rozália Stefánia” they whispered, hushed, crowded, crowning her with the jewels of expectations thrown too high on the throne.
[break][break]
“Voice of song,” they murmured.
[break]
“Hands of music,” they marveled.
[break]
“Quick of tongue,” they boasted.
[break]
“Sharp of mind,” they hissed.
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All of these small tragedies embedded into her flesh, a printed prison code of a witch going to the stake for a crime she didn’t commit.
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But Rozália never shied from the heat.
[break][break]
Born in twos, flipped for a fate, clutching coin carved faces because the pockets kept changing— again and again, a new one appeared, rearing her sister and herself with no permanence, merely precedence for a burning.
[break][break]
Treasure and luxury could only calm a beast for so long before the roar burst and the fire smoked out the lies; the neglect; the carelessness unexpected of parents who were supposed to know which card to play against a deck of children bet on from the day they were born.
[break][break]
Parents who never threw down a winning hand.
[break][break]
“Vengeance,” she would coo, amazed, drunk off of the victory, reeling from the fight; Aurélia and herself were no strangers to malignancy and mischief, and it was always something earned— parents should take care of their children, or their children will care only for themselves.
[break][break]
And then they grew to fifteen before being thrown from the nest. It was a push too far, a flame too great, and the scorch marks they left ate their feet away from their home, but this didn’t stop them from flying.
[break][break]
For they were dragons
[break]— and no dragon ever fell from a fire.
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[attr="class","stappoocbasic"] ageseventeen pronounsshe/her time zonepst where did you come from?all that matters is that i'm suffering | [attr="class","appbasic4"]
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