She’s a Knight with fire and chaos in her veins and poetry dripping from her lips.
You cannot tame a beautiful beast with a wild heart.
It’s all or nothing with her.
Are you ready to dance with her on top of cratered moons?
Are you ready to fall to your knees, coughing up ash and bones?
They call me, Darkness
With a flick of her wrist, she summons her guards who approach while holding a young maiden by their arms.
“Release her,” a soft yet stern voice breaks the stillness in the oval-shaped room. The guards push the young maiden to the floor.
“Arise. Tell me your name,” the princess demands. Standing up on her feet the young maiden answers.
“Savanna, your highness,” she sarcastically bows.
The princess rises from her throne and approaches the young woman, connecting her coffee-colored eyes to youthful sky-blue’s.
She reaches out her caramel color hand and gently grips the young woman’s chin.
“What is your true name, child?” She hisses, searching the sapphire eyes in front of her.
The young woman gathers what little courage she has and replies softly.
“Darkness, my princess. They call me Darkness.”
Her shoulder blades moved under the skin, missing its wings that helped her defy gravity.
She was violated by an unworthy suitor, plucking her feathers methodically and ripping the hollow bones from her shoulder blades.
Some people break you because they can.
Her wings never grew back, but she still rises with the morning sun, glowing with pride.
Broken crayons still color
I watched her in the mirror for many years, always calming the storms that raged under her skin
… rattling her bones.
Broken never looked so damn beautiful.
But as all broken things, there were parts of her malfunctioning like a damaged toy
… like allowing the idea of happiness to stain her blood,
coating her insides with possibilities of rainbows and butterflies.
She was tired of the lies.
She never talked about it, the pain she suffered as a child, and blows she took like a champ as a teenager. She spits at the word “love” when it’s thrown at her so blasé.
Where was love when the first monster she encountered violated her? Was that love? Sure, he was kind, but he was a sick bastard that preyed on the innocent and the damned.
I watch her stare at herself, blinking back regret and chaos behind her eyes, and for a moment, she was still. Her calm frightened me to the core, and yet I could not look away from her enchanting aura.
I searched for love in her eyes, it’ was somewhere deep, under all the dirt and built-up particles that would repeatedly crash into her like a wrecking ball. A reminder.
For many years people assumed she was lost, but in all honesty, she didn’t want to be found.
She had broken pieces to clean up and discard first.