Post by lynnelia arnett on Jan 23, 2018 4:20:09 GMT
[nospaces][/PTab={tab-background-color:#fff;}][PTab=OOC]
[attr="class","lvappbg"]
[/PTab={tab-background-color:#fff;}][PTab=BIOGRAPHY][attr="class","appbg3"]
[PTabbedContent][PTab=BASIC][attr="class","appicon"]  | [attr="class","lvappname"] LYNNELIA ARNETT [attr="class","appdivider"] [attr="class","appname2"]leviathan |
[attr="class","appbg2"]
[attr="class","lvappbody2"]
[attr="class","apppersonality"] [attr="class","lvappheading"]personality
| [attr="class","appseperator2"] | [attr="class","appbasic"]
| ||||||||||||
[attr="class","appbg2"]
[attr="class","appbody2"]
and you weep there, in your seventh year of life, as your mother lays the moon against your back and takes the wilting lily cupped in your hands; "hush, my darling girl. you will know when to grieve— now is not your time for destruction."
[break][break]
you did not know what it meant; you did not know what she knew; and you did not understand how the lily turned blushing in a bowl of rainwater, blossoming into a koi fish. you did not know what it meant should it perish.
[break][break]
a quarter of a decade has swam along the current, coating skin in dewdrops of lost souls and painting a siren’s melody into your throat. they beckon to you, a girl half a year shy of thirteen; they tell you that you are better off hanging to their scaled forearms and their iridescent tails; they tell you of a tragedy in riddles and secrets— they are forbidden to sound a warning outside of the water; yet they call to you still.
[break][break]
[break][break]
agony nests in your collarbones, crows screeching for murder beyond the shore; you wonder if they rest in you; you wonder if you are the killer and they are the victim.
[break][break]
[break][break]
[break][break]
perhaps it was the screaming that drove you away; the tear of rocks to flesh and the splinter of wood you had long called home; the desperation of your family, how you clung to your father’s back as they took you someplace where poseidon’s wrath could no longer seek you. you had never believed in deity, yet all you could think of was the cruelty— one part safety, ninety-nine parts savagery.
[break][break]
[break][break]
“sundial,” your mother breathes; there is fear there, trepidation— you do not implore. “a place beyond imagination.”
[break][break]
you have learned the game of silence by now— you have learned a way to be right; yet you have learned a way to be wrong, and you cannot help but guard the shards in your chest; you cannot help but give yourself a choice.
[break][break]
[break][break]
you are seventeen, and you breathe in the air— you ravish the life you have been given; you cannot do more than let it slip through your fingers.
[break][break]
you are seventeen, and your father comes to you. you must understand, he pleads. you must understand there is no constant— you must promise me that you will not break.
[break][break]
you are seventeen, and you think of siren melody; here, you wonder if they meant something else.
[break][break]
[break][break]
they left— left you with a sister six years your senior who couldn’t care less of your worries, a sister who did nothing but whisk away a father’s words.
[break][break]
a sister who did nothing.
[break][break]
nothing.
[break][break]
you have nothing.
[break][break]
it had been three days before your father lay in a casket bathed in shadow and spite, suffocated with a soil ceiling, body hidden and ashamed— and all you can remember is the blood, the ache, the murder, the sirens. all you can remember is all you choose to forget.
[break][break]
your mother does not come home; you choose to forget her, too.
[break][break]
your sister steps out the door and dissipates; an entity long gone, brushed away by the wind before you have a chance to say goodbye.
[break][break]
you are left with no one; you are left with an empty house that no longer welcomes the dawn; you are left with hallways mimicking a reaper's imprint; you are left with a hollow corpse of the before you can no longer recall.
[break][break]
you are alone. and yet you begin to remember.
[break][break]
[break][break]
for months, you do not speak; for a year you do not move; when your time comes to make a decision, it no longer lies in the creases of your palms.
[break][break]
recruitment was beyond you, and yet you were sought; and now, you understand.
[break][break]
you shed yourself of a skin you once wore; you lose your name; you lose your home— you lose yourself.
[break][break]
you are no longer lynnelia.
[break][break]
you are ophélie— and it will have to do.
[attr="class","lvappbody3"]
[break][break]
as your mother plaits your infant hair into strands of stardust, you cannot help but wonder if this will last forever: this moment in which amnesty has granted forbearance into the rock edged walls and the leaking roof. you cannot help but think— is this fate’s string detached from the depth of our hearts?
[break]you're like a wave washing over me
●●●
[break][break]
as your mother plaits your infant hair into strands of stardust, you cannot help but wonder if this will last forever: this moment in which amnesty has granted forbearance into the rock edged walls and the leaking roof. you cannot help but think— is this fate’s string detached from the depth of our hearts?
and you weep there, in your seventh year of life, as your mother lays the moon against your back and takes the wilting lily cupped in your hands; "hush, my darling girl. you will know when to grieve— now is not your time for destruction."
[break][break]
you did not know what it meant; you did not know what she knew; and you did not understand how the lily turned blushing in a bowl of rainwater, blossoming into a koi fish. you did not know what it meant should it perish.
[break][break]
pulling me underneath
●●●
[break][break]a quarter of a decade has swam along the current, coating skin in dewdrops of lost souls and painting a siren’s melody into your throat. they beckon to you, a girl half a year shy of thirteen; they tell you that you are better off hanging to their scaled forearms and their iridescent tails; they tell you of a tragedy in riddles and secrets— they are forbidden to sound a warning outside of the water; yet they call to you still.
[break][break]
“it brings back the lost as though never gone, shines laughter and tears with light long since shone; a moment to make, a lifetime to shed; valued then but lost when you’re dead.”
[break][break]
agony nests in your collarbones, crows screeching for murder beyond the shore; you wonder if they rest in you; you wonder if you are the killer and they are the victim.
[break][break]
sinking slowly
●●●
[break][break]
the water sparks the cliffside screaming[break]
stone pounded into itself and drowning[break]
you kill your feet with the grass growing above the onslaught[break]
dig your battle-worn nails into the sky[break]
try to pull clouds from it[break]
think maybe they will calm the sea into joy over anger[break]
maybe they will patch the cliff wounds[break]
maybe they will make everything better
stone pounded into itself and drowning[break]
you kill your feet with the grass growing above the onslaught[break]
dig your battle-worn nails into the sky[break]
try to pull clouds from it[break]
think maybe they will calm the sea into joy over anger[break]
maybe they will patch the cliff wounds[break]
maybe they will make everything better
[break][break]
perhaps it was the screaming that drove you away; the tear of rocks to flesh and the splinter of wood you had long called home; the desperation of your family, how you clung to your father’s back as they took you someplace where poseidon’s wrath could no longer seek you. you had never believed in deity, yet all you could think of was the cruelty— one part safety, ninety-nine parts savagery.
[break][break]
i only miss you when the sun goes down
●●●
[break][break]
“sundial,” your mother breathes; there is fear there, trepidation— you do not implore. “a place beyond imagination.”
[break][break]
you have learned the game of silence by now— you have learned a way to be right; yet you have learned a way to be wrong, and you cannot help but guard the shards in your chest; you cannot help but give yourself a choice.
[break][break]
your voice is my favorite sound
●●●
[break][break]
you are seventeen, and you breathe in the air— you ravish the life you have been given; you cannot do more than let it slip through your fingers.
[break][break]
you are seventeen, and your father comes to you. you must understand, he pleads. you must understand there is no constant— you must promise me that you will not break.
[break][break]
you are seventeen, and you think of siren melody; here, you wonder if they meant something else.
[break][break]
i'll stay underneath
●●●
[break][break]
they left— left you with a sister six years your senior who couldn’t care less of your worries, a sister who did nothing but whisk away a father’s words.
[break][break]
a sister who did nothing.
[break][break]
nothing.
[break][break]
you have nothing.
[break][break]
it had been three days before your father lay in a casket bathed in shadow and spite, suffocated with a soil ceiling, body hidden and ashamed— and all you can remember is the blood, the ache, the murder, the sirens. all you can remember is all you choose to forget.
[break][break]
your mother does not come home; you choose to forget her, too.
[break][break]
your sister steps out the door and dissipates; an entity long gone, brushed away by the wind before you have a chance to say goodbye.
[break][break]
you are left with no one; you are left with an empty house that no longer welcomes the dawn; you are left with hallways mimicking a reaper's imprint; you are left with a hollow corpse of the before you can no longer recall.
[break][break]
you are alone. and yet you begin to remember.
[break][break]
drifting slowly
●●●
[break][break]
for months, you do not speak; for a year you do not move; when your time comes to make a decision, it no longer lies in the creases of your palms.
[break][break]
recruitment was beyond you, and yet you were sought; and now, you understand.
[break][break]
you shed yourself of a skin you once wore; you lose your name; you lose your home— you lose yourself.
[break][break]
you are no longer lynnelia.
[break][break]
you are ophélie— and it will have to do.
[attr="class","appbg2"]
[/PTab={tab-background-color:#fff;}][/PTabbedContent={tabvalign:top}][attr="class","lvappbody2"]
| |||||
[attr="class","lvappoocbasic"] ageeighteen pronounsshe/her time zonepst where did you come from?¯\_(ツ)_/¯ | [attr="class","appbasic4"]
| ||||
