#dungeon date

[kiwifie]

my bones are titanium, but my heart is made of stars

[kiwifie]

a friend of things buried in the woods

[kiwifie]

When I see something going well, I always feel like knocking it down, like toppling dominoes...

[kiwifie]

eden

[kiwifie]

pretty boy

[theinklust]

In the summers, you were most beautiful. A lad with his head floating within the alpine heights; lost in the curves of carriage wheels-- constantly spinning, constantly rolling through whatever ground you’ve had enough courage to set foot on and I am a maiden who has only seen the world through a window from a tower; elevated high enough to watch the sun rise and set with no permission. I have been friends with the sun long enough to let it be the only one to kiss my skin. Inside these crumbling walls, I have spent my liberty dreaming of a rescue; fantasizing of a Greek Adonis to bust through these walls and lay me by his horse, whisper in a deep, masculine voice- in which I have only heard in songs and gossips passed along the lips of other maidens- to tell me “Dearest, you’re safe.”

But my walls have only permitted fairytales to happen within the tattered pages of the books I read; within the highs and lows of the notes I sing as I dream of a knight to crash through the night-- but instead, the gods have given me you.

You are that one gust of breeze from winter wandering too close to the summer sun, piercing through every vein glowing green inside my body. You are the bow and arrow my mother had warned me about as she brushes my hair; she tells me that a lad like you will only step back to get a good vantage and shoot harder even before I could let go of the breath I have kept inside my chest from seeing you-- yet no matter how much  I breach my walls just to get through you, I know, you are only here to stay the hunt.

You were always different person in the night than in the day: As we lie with our bodies tangled into whatever space we had left empty for each other to get into, against the warmth of the mattress, opposite the only window in my spacious tower-- we watch the stars glisten amidst the biggest canvas we could ever imagine. I reach my finger to trace your name with the stars set upon the sky, you laugh, and tell me, like I was silly, that the stars don’t have all the answers. At night, you were an assurance, a promise, a reminder, an epiphany. In the morrow, you were… a question.

Before I could even open my eyes and let the sun greet me, you were already running across the grassy acres to where my tower stands. I stood there, stunned, wallowing and rippling and brimming in sorrow and regret for knowing that you are this lad, with his whole life laid under his feet, and I still let you bruise my corners and edges with your arms, your chest, your kisses disguised in the shapes sweeter than my reveries.

I have sailed across the seas I filled with my own tears, I have drowned myself in barrels in an effort to cover up your scent with the stench of wine, I have climbed mountains sculpted in the shape of your ethereal body, your whole existence, too perfect for this world I have cut myself in swords and knives made out of all your broken promises I have put my heart on a leash and let you hold the other end of the rope and all you’ve done was tie a noose around my neck and left me there to hang-- all these, just to find you, hold you, once more, to reach for your heart, instead of just your chest and ask you… for all it’s worth: Darling, please, stay.