little child
little child sitting on the stairs
late late at night
looking through the gap under the door
watching feet pass back and forth
never knowing how they knew
she was watching
or why they made her stand
at the door in the cold
they are coming for you
little child in a nightgown
that bore the words Hug Me
in big red letters
used to hug her parents
every single night
till she decided
they didn’t deserve it
to the sky, my friend, i will return
and I fell so hard
I broke all my dreams in half
lost my motivation in the fall
couldnt pull the string
to a parashoot I didn’t have
and I fell so long
I forgot the sky
chasing its reflection
into the depths
of an unmoving ocean
where I made my home
knowing water was not air
and still I watched the sky
warped and filtered through
waters not made for me
thinking I would never see it
as I did before I drowned
and I ran out of breath
I forgot I still had
and swam
and reached
and Im still reaching
even as I fall again
Doll Legs
Fingers digging at hard, unforgiving marble flooring, a warrior drags herself through the halls of an abandoned castle. Inside the tall walls, the warrior’s gasps and grunts echoed. Outside, a war raged. One side slaughtered another in a war waged for kings greed and false pride.
Crawling through cold, neglected halls, she continued on. Searching for something, anything to stop the bleeding. Anything to give her a second chance. Her legs gone, she was useless out in battle. But she didn’t come here to die a senseless death.
Her hand hits cold metal. Casting heavy-lidded eyes up, she sees the painted face of a doll staring down at her from behind the bars of a cage. It’s eyes were glittering gems with a depth unknown in any other pair.
It’s mouth opened and a voice came out, sounding distant, as if from an old radio. “Poor thing.” The voice fades in and out of static. "Poor poor thing.“ The doll tilts it head, eyes staring unblinkingly down at the wounded warrior. It’s movements shuttered and slowed as if it hadn’t moved in a long long time. Cobwebs hung from its hair and arms and it’s yellowed, lacy clothing.
”I will give what you are missing. I will give you my legs. They are useless to me.“ The doll’s words nearly faded out by the last line, sounding far, far away.
"G-give?” The warrior’s own words came out far more faded than the doll’s. It seemed not to hear as it slowly reaches long, jointed arms towards her. Her senses dulled and pricked as she fell unconscious. The last thing she felt was the cold hands of the doll.
_____
She woke to the deep, deep eyes of the doll. It leaned against its cage. With a shuttering gasp, the warrior scrambled away and sat up. Clutching a hand to her chest, she looked over the doll. It hadn’t moved when she had and instead sat perfectly still, slumped against the bars. She could no longer see its face through its curtain of hair.
It looked as if it hadn’t moved in centuries.
She watches it warily, trying to recall where she was and why. It wasn’t till a look around revealed a path of dried blood that she remembered. Casting a reluctant look down she saw legs. Long, slender, smooth white legs. Tentatively, she touched them. It was as smooth as it looked, colder than the floor below, and as hard as the marble.
These were not her legs. The contrast of her own brown, calloused hands contested that.
She had lost her legs. And here were new ones. Remembering the faded words, the warrior glanced over at the unmoving doll. Then at the empty space its legs had been. Its arms the same smooth white of her legs.
The doll had given the warrior its legs.
Slowly, she moved towards the doll, fear replaced with worry. Was it broken now? She wanted to thank it, even if it didn’t mean anything to a doll. Was it broken beyond repair?
The doll still didn’t move. Frowning, the warrior looks up at the cage surrounding the doll. Golden and tall, reminiscent of a gilded bird cage with no door. The bars had enough space for an arm to go through, even a leg, but nothing more.
As she placed a hand on the deceivingly delicate bars, the doll stirred. Drawing her hand back, the warrior watched the doll shiver and shake. Pops and clicks could be heard, along with a distinct sound of whirling. The doll straightened it’s self, straining to lift its head and look at her with jewelled eyes. Its mouth opened limply and she could hear the same distant radio voice.
“Do they work?”
Looking down at her legs, she hesitated. Only with the pressure of the doll’s eyes on her did she dare to try. Again, she gripped the cage bars and used them to push herself to her feet in one strong heave. Wobbling, she kept a tight hold on the bars. Slowly, slowly she let go and put her full weight on the legs.
The white doll legs held her weight easily. They were longer than her original legs. The height difference must have lead to a lot of her imbalance. The warrior could bend the legs on their own, though the movements were tight and resistant, requiring more concentration than she was used to using.
After a while of simply testing the mobility and flexibility of her new legs, the warrior heaved a heavy breath and sat back down. Exhausted and in pain, she smiled. Surely, she would learn to walk with these legs.
Looking back up at the doll, she saw it was still watching. Its face was showing a half worn away blank expression. The warrior could not tell if it was happy or if it could be happy. Still, she smiled at it.
“Thank you. I’ll find a way to repay you…. In fact!” She scooted closer to the bars, assessing the gaps. “Would you allow me to try and fix you up?”
The silence that followed was so long that she worried the doll had stopped working again. Eventually, the doll nodded, emitting a grinding sound as it moved closer to the cage wall the warrior was at. Close enough that she could reach through and take an arm.
“You fixed me. Now it’s my turn to fix you. Only seems fair, right?”
Dear Diary. Dead of Winter. Year 230?
From a collection of diaries found in an abandoned cabin deep in a forest:
Dead of Winter. Year 230? in Forest.
Dear Diary,
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. So much nothing. All I want is something. The forest only holds so much discovery to be had. Only so much to do. Perhaps there are new areas to explore that somehow even now I have not found but I am bored. No day holds anything new any more. I have not had a visitor in decades. There is no reason to do anything.
The only reason I write this now is to give my hands something to do rather than let them claw my eyes out. I am sick of this. Physically and mentally. There is only so much to do. I wish I could leave. I wish someone would stay. They all come and go and mostly go. I am so bored! Nothing I have to offer is as good as what must be out there.
Why do others have the grace and mercy of age yet I do not? Why am i denied that mercy? There is no reason for a long life when there is no life to be had!
There is no one to pray to or beg for something to happen. But if there was, I will take anything. Anything at all that you throw at me. As long as you throw something!
Anything.
good graphics bad mechanics
life is a poorly designed game
too much dead space
loading screens that last all night
unskippable cutscenes
irrelevant boss fights and tasks
no cheat codes
and the story has no direction
where is the fast forward in my life
i am in the between of everything
can i play my life
like I play video games
grinding through obstacles
till i reach the next level and the next cutscene
can i skip to the main storyline of my life
all that waits for me here
is cutting down monsters
till im strong enough to fight the boss
i am unyielding, ever-moving, and gone
i. i am gentle
the sort of gentle
thats slow and soft
but does not yield to touch
ii. i am fluid
my core is solid
i am swirling around myself
at any given moment
yet my gravity is centered
iii. i cannot be contained
to try is to lose me
hold me and i will
drip through your fingers
and solidify elsewhere
call me and wait
or do not call at all
iv. i am gone
i am miles ahead already
always somewhere else
at a point i have not yet reached
too impatient with Now
to linger a moment longer
doll’s gift
defeated in battle
her legs the price
a warrior lays dying
before a grand golden cage
a doll looks down at her
from within, eyes unblinking
her own legs folded underneath her
unused for centuries
“would you like my legs?
I have no use for them
I am sure you would
make them strong again”
the warrior, with the long legs of a doll
gains grace and speed
quite unlike what she had before
she gained glory and revenge
and treasured the gift
swearing to return them
on the day the doll was free from her cage
the doll faired no different
with legs or not
gained a protector
and a companion
she never tried for freedom
for there was no door to the cage
and her dreams were not hindered
she had her hands
and she had her voice
with which she could pass the time
merrily away
with the warrior
Reluctance
She sits, legs crossed, arm resting over a knee. Her expression is dark, lips pursed. This had been her home--her sanctuary. Yet, here he was. Soiling her home with muddy feet and muddier words, bolstering and blustering in vain.
She wanted none of it. He knew this. He knew it all the way back when she threw him out a month ago. As she stared down at him from where she sat on the counter, he shrunk back. Something in his eyes, how he looked away in shame. Not for himself, but for her. It infuriated her.
"Javeed." He didn't look back at his name, but she could see the lines around his mouth deepen at the disgust in her voice. "What are you expecting out of this?" His chest rose, mouth opening with ready words but she gave him no time. "You broke into my home. Nothing you say is going to justify that. I moved on. You aren't welcome here. What you are doing now is illegal. Leave and I won't call the police. Anything else and I will." Her eyes narrowed more at him, noticing how his muscles tensed. "Or my girlfriend will."
With smug satisfaction, she watched his form slump and his expression turn wounded. "Girlfriend?" He said as if he couldn't believe it. As if she hadn't told him she was bi several times before.
"Yeah."
He spoke, the words rushed, "I know it looks bad." She snorted. "I know. But you didn’t answer and it’s storming out. You weren't going to open the door and it's too far to go back... I can't just stay out there!" Sucking in a deep breath out there, the muddied man gave her another wounded look. “Candice please..”
"Well, now that serves you right for creeping around the house. Go sit in your car and pray the lightning doesn't come for your fancy metal belt."
As he spluttered for a retort, dripping more dirt onto her kitchen floor. Candice looks up, catching the gaze of her girlfriend at the doorway, a phone ready in her hand. Giving her a nod, her girlfriend drew back, typing into the phone.
The man was acting like a sulking child now. Muttering about coming all the way here for nothing. The woman only starred, expression stony. She felt for him, she really did, but she wasn't proud of that. She wasted months with a man who refused to acknowledge the best parts of her. They'd broken apart on peaceful terms. Only a few choice words, but a considerable amount of talking.
She had hoped he'd understood, but a week later, he called back, acting as if they'd only been taking a break. She hadn't been nice that time around. After that, he'd left her alone. Till now, when her girlfriend had prepared a lovely night for the two of them. He'd come in through the unlocked back door, soaking wet and muddy from the long path.
Javeed continued to try to persuade her when the sound of sirens sounded. The man froze, a look of betrayal on his face. The woman tenses, getting on her feet where she feels more sure.
"Candice! You...no she called the cops on me? I didn't do anything!" He made to leave before shaking his head. "Ugh. How could you. I can't afford a mark on my record. Hell if I'm going to make it worse." Javeed storms through the front door, arms raised as flashing lights blared through the windows.
Moving out of the kitchen, Candice gently wrapped an arm around her girlfriend. "Thank you Alice." Giving a soft peck on her cheek, she lingered a moment longer before stepping back. A moment later she heads out to talk to the cops.