grit and mold and pale-fleshed toes,
the memories: 'piteous overthrows'
and shafts of light come streaming in
between squeaky boards; and claws so thin
they dart beneath the rotted door
find dirt and crumbs; dust moles, spores
(more) and hollow noises, sticky hair
such potent blood, and stature fair
it's silent here, and so it seems
there's no one 'round to hear the screams.(less)
sheathed over with arrogance
bleating out her beating
little Girl flees satiated
forsaking her feed [though
only presently]; in leave
Child chides, censuring with
"MY FAULT. ALL my OWN—
how DARE i & how COULD i
& what MONSTER lies beneath
deceiving fleece so OFF from
white to be INSANE & so
RAPACIOUS should be SLAIN
or—at the very LEAST— be
& chaste[—n]s her archosargus
all its unconsummate dreams
lambasted & voraciously raped
Baby flays, molests, & mutilate
"UNdeserving, SPOiled, STUp
id SELfish little BITCH—"
& fusses, wailing her mixed-ma
ngled maiméd mind—disfigu
red & eructing utterances of no
nsensical natures—mauled f
inally, cries, howling to the wo
It was the rain that woke him, pattering softly against the windowpane above his head. Edward blinked in the dimness of the room, the murky grey light of dawn sneaked in through the cracked curtains and cast the barest illumination across the floor.
(more) The weather brought with it the heavy, sleepy sensation of nostalgia. How many days had he spent in bed when it rained, with Roy's sleepy, unguarded expression, his hair spiked funny and badly in need of a combing? He always complained the weather, and Edward tolerated it more than Riza ever would - because when Roy complained the weather, it was to that space between Edward's shoulder blades as Roy wrapped him in a great hug from behind. It was warm and comfortable, and Edward's eyes drifted closed, content.
Rian snuggled in a little closer, Edward's arms - well, arm, his right was flung out the other direction just in case - tight around him. Edward tilted his head toward the rumpled, dark head, his eyes creaking open against the gloom. Rian was a lot less susceptible to the changes in the weather - if anything, these days it was Edward who complained about it more. The changes in pressure bothered his joints, and where the seam of automail was pressed into his skin.
"Th' alarm didn't go off," Rian muttered against skin, and Edward yawned. It was gradually growing less dim - hardly a bright morning, but clearly daylight. "Why're you awake already?"
Edward smoothed Rian's hair down, and felt him shift against the bed. It was a little lie, but there were so many more like it that he didn't even feel guilty any longer. He no longer cared if it made him a bad person. "No reason," he said. "Guess the rain woke me."
He called me godless, behind my back. He's right, I don't believe in the deity of the Bible, Torah, or any other holy book. But the accusation of godlessness, or being "anti-god" as he put it, seems to imply something more, an anger or bitterness, which I simply do(more) not possess. The notion of God is a lifeless one for me. It seeks to answer the big questions of origin and meaning with the figure of a omnipotent person, who is like us in many ways, except when he isn't. Questioning the doctrine is less important than accepting it, even when it is incomprehensible. I disbelieve until it makes sense, logically, to do otherwise. I enjoy the free roving of the mind, and religion, often with threat of punishment, inhibits this exploration. I read a book about a man who was born into a golden city. He could have or do anything he wanted so long as he stayed within the confines of the city walls. One day, while he was dawdling just inside the outermost wall, a man shouted to him from the forest beyond saying, "Don't you want to see the wider world? We fight and suffer and love and kill out here. I want you to see how we live." The man said "No, I will be obedient to my parents, who wish me to stay inside the city." The stranger approached the man. He was wrinkled and had terrible scars on his face. "Are you sure?" the stranger spoke looking deeply into the man's eyes. "Yes" said the man, and they parted ways. The man still lives within the golden city, and his parents love him, furnishing him with everything. The stranger died many years ago, murdered by his sons, who robbed him of his clothes. (less)
Turn the deadbolt in the front door, slide off the privacy chain. My my bedroom there is a bookshelf and on the bookshelf a weathered copy of The Iliad. I cut out the last twenty-five pages with her xacto knife and in the hollow I keep a key. The(more) key unlocks a box under my bed that holds my last picture of her, wrapped in the last twenty five pages of The Iliad.(less)
They don't understand her. People avoid what they don’t understand.
She talked about spells and potions she made. When she was small he picked a wand from the forest she was camping, she thought it was weird, how could a wizard forget their own wand? Well, lucky her, w(more)ho could be playing around with it and she wasn’t surprised and sparks flew out of it. She was caught stealing some chemicals from the chemistry lab, when they asked her about it she explained how she needed them for her potions.
They talked about wood sticks and poison. They found her waving a weird looking stick around playing with the snow and laughing alone, they asked her what she was doing and she simply said “magic”. She was caught stealing acids, inflammable chemicals and dyes, she said she was making potions and when they questioned what she was going to do with them she said “drink, of course”.
She says she talked to ghosts and went to a Deathday Paty. She was going home from school when she heard a girl weeping; the girl was about her age, pale and with old clothes. She asked what was wrong and the girl complained that nobody answered when she asked them to go to her Deathday Party, when she got home late that day she explained to her mother how she made a new friend.
They say schizophrenia. Her mother asked where her friend lived and she replied “at school, she died there”. They took her to a doctor, and he asked about her new friend; after that, her mother made her took pills everyday.
When she tried to fly from her roof she was considered a danger, and was locked away from her world full of magic.(less)