Melita
Eating fire is your ambition
to swallow the flame down
to swallow the flame down
So he hadn’t asked. Just went on assumptions. Her nostrils flared and every ounce of her body seemed to contract and coil into something barely contained – her eyes staring out over the lava rivulets, wondering when she’d turn to infernos and ash too. She moved onward, no longer crouching or kneeling or bending to anyone or anything, marching across cracks and crevices, passing through sheets and shale. “And what did the Voice say?” She hadn’t heard of any major meltdowns or life-altering events – though maybe Nate didn’t make it as public as his counterpart.
Her head shook and her locks were wild fringes of embers again – another hastily blown breath, wishing she could breathe fire like dragons, so she could scorch so many things out of existence. “And in the meantime, look what happens,” she gestured towards him – a man who’d been beaten and kicked around and slashed into portions and pieces for all these options. “Hopefully it works out for you this time. ” She splayed her hands outward, one of the rocks flying out into the pits, a long, labored, frustrated shrug.
And then he tried to turn it on her - which incited a derisive, embittered laugh. Nice try, pal. “This isn’t about me.” She hadn’t been breaking apart relationships and her family, grasping at straws, undermining attempts, flickering away loyalties, or bringing a child into the world for a deal that almost immediately fell to pieces. “And not once has Ludo asked me to do any of that. Not one fucking time.”
Her head shook and her locks were wild fringes of embers again – another hastily blown breath, wishing she could breathe fire like dragons, so she could scorch so many things out of existence. “And in the meantime, look what happens,” she gestured towards him – a man who’d been beaten and kicked around and slashed into portions and pieces for all these options. “Hopefully it works out for you this time. ” She splayed her hands outward, one of the rocks flying out into the pits, a long, labored, frustrated shrug.
And then he tried to turn it on her - which incited a derisive, embittered laugh. Nice try, pal. “This isn’t about me.” She hadn’t been breaking apart relationships and her family, grasping at straws, undermining attempts, flickering away loyalties, or bringing a child into the world for a deal that almost immediately fell to pieces. “And not once has Ludo asked me to do any of that. Not one fucking time.”
to be lit up from within, vein by vein
to be the sun
to be the sun
