to be lit up from within
vein by vein
A feeling inside; maybe just the same as her emotions, her mercurial, capricious range of sentiments and ruminations. Rage. Melancholy. Sadness. Pettiness. A temper fueled and instigated by anything and everything nowadays, tempestuous to a fault, a wild, wicked storm constantly doomed to unravel at every turn. Only these strands and threads were animals, and Melita wondered what it must be like, to embody something, completely utterly different, to walk the earth as a panther, on padded feet, armed with claws, never having to be afraid, owning the world in its irreverent dominion. Or to become a bat, to fly along winds, to saunter into the evening, to become eclipsed in the midnight abyss.Or if she could become that simply by remaining exactly who she was: a greedy, avaricious, little monster, sharpening her daggers on stones and rubble.
Her eyes watched the bat flutter around her head, quite tempted to reach out and poke it with her fingers, but keeping them closed, clenched, tightened, until he landed, gesturing towards the sea. The whale, offered again, was the only invitation she needed for her smile to spring back forth. “Yes, please!”
to be the sun
MELITA
