how to live as ghosts

KIADA

ok, ok, i never had wings, only feathers

& i cried like a baby when they left me

For a man who spoke little words, he had always made a way to make up for it through his actions. And she didn’t mind, she had grown up with it. Had grown up striving to be noticed and something rather than the girl with flames on her spine and an absent father, whore of a mother. And she had done just that, for him, only to hear the gentle tides of his voice booming over the festival with praise and pride for the Harpy. It was the one thing she cherished most.

And now she had him back, and he was creative and more open to touch and receiving things than he had been before, but his mind remained so similar. It was still him, but at least now she could hug him tight and articulate just how much the man means to her. She could tell him about all of her woes and fears, and they could come up with a plan to make it work and she could move on. A father figure, a mentor, her best friend. Who doesn’t judge when she breaks into him, instead wraps her close and angles her away from prying eyes.

She doesn’t know what she would do without him.

He tells her thank you and she gives him a small pitiful smile in response, pulling away as he does so she can spend the rest of the evening staring at the ring on her finger and making silent promises and vows to a man who’ll never hear them.

& i bled every time somebody touched me

ok, ok, i wasn't beautiful, not even in golden light

does it really matter, anyway?

we all get swallowed eventually