⊰ 𓆩☆𓆪 ❝ spirited away. ❞ 𓆩☆𓆪 ⊱
WHAT IS AT THE APOGEE OF REBIRTH ?? here, child, drink from the fountain of knowledge, all you have to give in turn is yourself. what’s a few stitches cut when your whole being is quilted delirium, bits and pieces from everyone else sewn into the tapestry : mama said i smile just like my father would have. i saw that smile and it felt like looking into a cracked mirror. in the dip of her collarbone she collects other’s laughter like morning dew, names etched into her bones, into her sketchbook, into paintings in a corner of an attic of a house in emon, heavy with two decades of dust.
she doesn’t have @lunaerising’s memory ( as caleb ) ; sometimes things sift like fine grains of sand. sometimes they stay, of course, heavy with leaden weight, pebbles in the pit of his stomach. still, he says, ❝ once you’ve met someone, you never really forget them, ❞ and her teeth sink into her tongue, sharp taste of iron. ( you do, is the thing. it starts with the voices, rendered softer by time until they’re not even a whisper. laughter lines, the feeling of a hand on yours, the way absence smooths over its jagged edges and becomes simply ... a hole. she presses people between the pages of her books like others might press flowers, but both attempts at turning something live into permanence leaves them frail. )
❝ i think, ❞ lots of that lately, hasn’t it been, lavorre ?? it’s funny. the only one who has stayed exactly the same in spite of the years is vax, and vax is dead. ❝ i think we remember their ghosts actually, you know ?? kinda like in the beacon. ❞ fingers splay wide and wriggle, smile bright as she can make it. on her wrists, the inked unicorns chase each other round and round and round. there’s a story somewhere about a snake eating its own tail. ❝ like, i don’t know. so much changes and people never really stay the same, which is good, cause can you imagine how boring all that would be, and ⸻ and you remember them, sure. but it’s not really them anymore. ❞