flurries of desperation flutter before her.
tiny, ivory hands reach out,
a glow of hope radiates from her once naïve, green eyes.
she is blinded by the veil of youth.
they float, gently cascading around her body.
she cries with glee, her voice shattering the perfect still.
jumping, she grasps hold of one,
yet it vanishes as if on wings of soft pity.
a gasp. a tiny shiver. a slight feeling of loss.
her wide eyes close for a moment, searching.
a smile creeps across her face,
like the pained setting of the sun.
raising her head, she gazes to the sky,
her hands outstretched before her.
an offering. a silent plea.
she was five and he was nine.
it was winter, and the silent snow
began to cloud the earth.
her little tongue protruded from her mouth.
violent red against the innocent white.
tiny flakes landed, resting from their journey
only to whiter away as she exhaled.
she heard the groaning compression of snow behind her
and turned to see her brother’s face.
his nose was pink, his grin was unforgettable.
he grabbed her hand and-
and-
. .
.. . .
...
. ..... .
. ...
. ..
.
the flurries continue their plummet,
their sparkling beauty almost seems to wink to her
as they sink past.
she feels the Cold slithering its way up her spine
and the notion of loss throbs more prevalent
with the death of each flurry.
one simple, little tear
shining obstinately against her skin admits the truth.
the veil is ripped before her,
yet no light shines through.
no revelation. only loss.
her heart quickens as she falls to the ground
desperately reaching, grasping…hoping…
nothing.
so much more than nothing.
something that once was.
something that once was, and now forgotten.
she cries, “please, please not yet…”
but Nature continues its course.
the sinking Enemy reaches the base of her skull
and burrows inside.
her gentle hands begin clawing at the air,
choked with flurries.
Her flurries.
and now they are dying. melting from the earth,
stolen from her by that Torturer.
she curls into a perfect, submissive ball.
“please…anything. anything but those.”
tiny, ivory hands reach out,
a glow of hope radiates from her once naïve, green eyes.
she is blinded by the veil of youth.
they float, gently cascading around her body.
she cries with glee, her voice shattering the perfect still.
jumping, she grasps hold of one,
yet it vanishes as if on wings of soft pity.
a gasp. a tiny shiver. a slight feeling of loss.
her wide eyes close for a moment, searching.
a smile creeps across her face,
like the pained setting of the sun.
raising her head, she gazes to the sky,
her hands outstretched before her.
an offering. a silent plea.
she was five and he was nine.
it was winter, and the silent snow
began to cloud the earth.
her little tongue protruded from her mouth.
violent red against the innocent white.
tiny flakes landed, resting from their journey
only to whiter away as she exhaled.
she heard the groaning compression of snow behind her
and turned to see her brother’s face.
his nose was pink, his grin was unforgettable.
he grabbed her hand and-
and-
. .
.. . .
...
. ..... .
. ...
. ..
.
the flurries continue their plummet,
their sparkling beauty almost seems to wink to her
as they sink past.
she feels the Cold slithering its way up her spine
and the notion of loss throbs more prevalent
with the death of each flurry.
one simple, little tear
shining obstinately against her skin admits the truth.
the veil is ripped before her,
yet no light shines through.
no revelation. only loss.
her heart quickens as she falls to the ground
desperately reaching, grasping…hoping…
nothing.
so much more than nothing.
something that once was.
something that once was, and now forgotten.
she cries, “please, please not yet…”
but Nature continues its course.
the sinking Enemy reaches the base of her skull
and burrows inside.
her gentle hands begin clawing at the air,
choked with flurries.
Her flurries.
and now they are dying. melting from the earth,
stolen from her by that Torturer.
she curls into a perfect, submissive ball.
“please…anything. anything but those.”
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