Tattered-Soul

Planet Soul

There’s a planet in space
Inhabited by people
Without bodies to embrace.
They’re just souls.
Some are tattered and dark
While others shine and spark.
They communicate just like you and I
But it’s easier to tell who would lie.
They perceive who’s naive
And conceive who deceives.
You’ll know who is pleasant,
You’ll know who is mean;
Their morality is effortlessly seen.
I wish I could go to this place
But I’d need to lose my soul case…

But Dean, who has just been raised from Hell by this creature of light and benevolence and terror, being cradled by it, being engulfed in the very same light with which it just ripped through the legions of Hell, through thousands of demons, and he has never felt so raw and vulnerable as in this moment, with his soul still tattered yet already being mended, with his body being pieced back together with the greatest of care. And he should probably be afraid and hurting, cowering before this mighty being, but he’s not, he really isn’t, because he is filled with light and love, and he has never been as safe as in the hum and cradle of this creature, has in the whole of his existence never felt as protected and understood and forgiven.

"I slept with another man because I knew I couldn’t fill those holes in your soul, more tattered than your favorite undershirt. I mended the holes, every stitch done with meticulous care, with pride and quiet patience. My hands would glide over the newly-sewn holes, and I would hold up and show you a mirror of your restored soul, beaming. You’d take it back and wear it out, and I’d watch my stitches disintegrate. 

I slept with another man. Single, 6’6”, ran a business, his hobbies included working out and it showed. He liked to go on road trips. Like you, he asked me to run with him one of these days. He grew up in the same city as you. When these traits showed up, I knew I’d just be grasping at lingering traces of your shadow. I suspected that your hologram was hiding underneath those hundred-sixty pounds of flesh sitting across the table at Friday’s.  His eyes weren’t dead, but they weren’t yours, so they might as well have been. 

At 3 P.M. he took me to a hotel, cramped walls, and a mirror on the ceiling. I wished I were home. I wondered what you were doing at the very moment I sat on the bed covered in coarse linen. Had you had lunch? Were you thinking of me? He kissed me and started taking off his clothes.

I wore matching underwear in your favorite color, red. I wore the very dress I wore the last time I saw you. So every time I’d see that dress hanging in my closet, I’d remember that I had been ravaged in it by two different men. Not just you. No you aren’t so special. And though I bought that dress with you in mind, I didn’t want to give you that privilege of being so precious that I’d save an article of clothing just for you. I slept with another man. I let him fuck me so I could have my revenge. 

He took his time to undress me, he kissed my lips and I look in his warm breath. I tugged at his hair while he was on top of me to make sure he was real, to remind myself that it wasn’t you. He kissed the curves of my torso, my belly button, and I faked a giggle to convince him that I enjoyed it as much as he did. I closed my eyes as he hungrily placed his lips on my neck, and the tip of his tongue squirmed back and forth, up and down seeking my pleasure. I clasped his shoulders and felt familiarity because they were shaped like yours, his body melted into my grooves like yours. He went down on me but not quite as well as you do. I couldn’t stop comparing. In between grunts and moans I pinched his skin and closed my eyes, and I’d see a memory of the last time you kissed me. I wished so hard it was you instead. In my mind I could see your face drawing closer, so I’d kiss him deeper and draw his breath as if sucking the life out of him would make you magically appear.

He pulled my hair and pinned me to the bed and he fucked me, and it was then that I missed you the most. Oh god, I missed you. He felt familiar because I was looking for you in him. I thought that maybe if I feigned my passion with utter conviction, my passion would become real. I feigned and feigned, but I was only the more convinced that it wasn’t you I was sharing myself with. Being in the arms of someone else made your absence more real, more concrete. His passion wasn’t fake. He kissed and kissed, and within hours of meeting each other he knew I would become his favorite person. He wanted me. You no longer do. 

I always thought that when I fucked you, we never made love. But mirroring this random fuck with the way I moved my body against yours, I now know I give myself entirely to you. I gave him my body, I gave you my soul. But ours was always one sided. I made love to you, you never reciprocated. I slept with another man. These thoughts were running though my head as I faked my moans until he came. I made him sweat. He lay on his back and I embraced him, my head resting on his chest, my legs coiled around his lower body, like I would with you, back in our bed, in our home. And I knew that I could do the same thing over and over with another man and still never find you. I hated myself. I hated you for not being there. My eyes couldn’t contain the anger, and I started crying. Quietly, I didn’t want him to see, because he had nothing to do with my tears. So I told him I wanted to go to sleep and I turned my back against him, and I cried in the goddamn hotel room. He embraced me still, and he didn’t know I was crying. I hated you more. 

I slept with another man. We had cheesecake and coffee after. I saw the signs you want to keep me. He started making plans. He wanted to go out of town. He asked if I liked the beach, and I said yes. He wanted to watch a movie. He asked me to go to his place one weekend so I could sleep over. I told him I’d make him breakfast. It was a half-lie and an empty half-promise. He kissed me again. He walked me to my car the next morning, and begged me for two more minutes before he said goodbye. I was going to take home his scent on my hair, my clothes, my skin. I slept with another man. He was ready to give me everything you never could. But I didn’t want him to. He could be everything I ever wanted. But I still wanted you.”

       Withered body housing tattered soul is to pour what
          energy can be  scrapped  together into the  mending  of the broken,
          his  own  depleting  health  failing  to be of  more  concern to mage 
          than that of  strangers;  killerinsane  they  call him  when looking 
          to the start  of  a war,  yet bloodied  hands still find they know how 
          to heal just as well as they understand how to destroy.

                                    Patients resting, he slouches against nearby tree
                                                                                & tries to breathe.

          ( ——- ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ
          Words whisper —  Justice, VengeanceSpirit is a familiar voice —
          of  intruder and  he does  not bother to look  around, speaking to air 
          and awaiting answer. 

          ❛ I know you’re there; There isn’t any point in hiding. ❜

Souless Goddess

Not only one, but two,

The fragment of lost time askew

In the world.

Fighting, begging, hurling

Themselves towards what undeniably

Could only have been the end.

These eyes took ahold,

Their lovely blue fragmented with gold,

As their sorrows leeched into my soul

And there is where this story unfolds.

She had the prospect of a goddess,

With guided movements and souless

Fragments of sentences abandoned.

In the midst of fire she would stand,

Unwavering to keep a steady hand,

In the midst of a world going to hell.

Her eyes, though, they told her story,

A forced nightmare of unanswered queries

Throwing what was meant to the savior,

Into the blade thus known as the rapier.

Strangling time to its knees,

Begging in the destructive chaos, “please

Guide the tattered soul

along the path once polished in gold,

to a life where it may see,

the world for what it could be.”

The dark turned to black,

Spilling all she had packed

Into that heart.

Her soul would live follow part,

Possessing the next into a life,

Often ridden by suffering, solitude, and strife,

Bringing forth just one trait,

The eyes of blue speckled with golden flakes.

The Serpent

By: Jenna 

They told me about the tree.
They told me about the serpent.
They told me to stay away from both, however I did not listen.

They made me sing the songs so dear to their hearts
Even though it felt like poison as the words escaped my lips.

They never told me that the serpent could have blue eyes and a smile able to shatter my heart. 

They never told me that the serpent’s hand fit perfectly into my own.

So I listened to his lullaby of a better world in my ear.

I listened to the ways that he promised to fix my heart piece by piece.

He promised to stay forever
And I believed him.

He handed me the fruit that he claimed could save my all consuming soul.

He told me that I wanted a life more than this, and I agreed.

So I ate the fruit, and he left.

Leaving me only with the memory of his lingering stare.

Leaving me on a tattered earth with a tattered soul and a hole in my stomach bigger than ever imagined.

They told me about the tree.
They told me about the serpent.
They told me to stay away from both, however I did not listen.

Photograph: botanicly

To the souls in need

Shattering vows etched in stone
Leaving hope far unknown
Their world’s will never be the same
Losing love leaves them naught to gain
Depression sets in like hardening concrete
Their pain and sorrow is kept discreet
Hatred and remorse fills the air
All they dwell on is despair
Moping around with no place to be
Never knowing that faith is the key
To the crumbling hearts this is written
Take into consideration the hope that is hidden
Reassurance is closer than you think
Though your mistakes are written in ink
The past is rejected, the future submitted
Knowledge comes from the mistakes you have made
Don’t give up, don’t let your colors fade
It’s time to learn from tattered souls
Though their intentions may not be as pure as silver or gold
But don’t let go of this thing called love
For it has been sent from Heaven above

Blast from the Past Reviews - Renegade by Erica Stevens


Blast from the Past…! Renegade (The Captive Book 2)

What they say: Though she is free of the palace, rescued from her position as a blood slave, Aria is haunted by the memories of her time spent within the fortress, tormented by memories of Braith, the prince that betrayed her and shattered her heart.

Every day is a struggle to get through, and the only solace she is able to find is with Max, her best friend, and fellow captive. Though Max does not understand her bond to Braith, he knows some of what she endured, and helps to ease some of the tattered pieces of her soul. Aria slowly begins to salvage the broken parts of her wounded spirit by throwing herself into the wonder of the woods she had so greatly missed, and the secure and reassuring love that Max freely gives her. Her world is thrown into a tailspin again though when a marauding group of vampires destroy the caves she had found temporary shelter in.

Scattered about the forest, seeking to stay hidden and find her family, Aria is stunned when Braith, the monster that savaged her heart, reappears. Stunned by his sudden arrival in her world, Arianna is uncertain if he has come to recapture her, or to kill her for daring to escape.

What I say: After the dramatic ending to Captured, I was anxious to see if Aria and Braith could discuss their misunderstandings or if they’d be kept apart by their interfering families. Aria thinks that Braith was using her and was planning to marry a vampire, where as Braith believes Aria’s words of love were lies to help her escape.

I have to say Braith’s reaction really annoyed me the first time I read the story. His extreme rage at Aria fuels his descends straight into bloodslaves/whores, sex and violence. However when I reread the book I had more empathy towards him, because he genuinely felt betrayed by the only person he’s ever loved. Although extreme, for a vampire I supposed his reaction is almost justified. Aria on the other hand suffers in silence out in the woods, I guess it’s really a matter of coping techniques. I really like Max, yet I really didn’t want Aria to end up with him and wonder how trustworthy he is now. 

The scene where the former lovers came face-to-face was really interesting and very different to my expectations. Their love story is intense and slightly twisted. It has the whole ‘burn the world down’ vibe going on. At times they reminded me of that couple who really shouldn’t be together because everybody around them also suffers. They are each others cryptonite!

There are some really sweet moments in Renegade and Braith’s protectiveness is endearing (for the most part, unless he goes too far). I liked the introduction of the other vampire siblings and meeting more of the rebels.

Overall I enjoyed this book a lot more the second time. I think it’s simply because on my first read I was really stressed about Aria and Braith’s separation and wanted to know how it panned out.

4 Stars in my Sky!

My fav non-spoilery quotes:
  • He was simply staring at her and Braith as if they had just sprouted two heads, jumped on a table, and started dancing a jig while singing at the top of their lungs.
  • He would always own a piece of her heart. But it could only be a small piece as he had succeeded in shattering the rest of it.
  • She looked like a warrior, she was a warrior, he realised. She had always been a fighter, but now she was so much more than that.
  • He had to get her out of the damn tree. And once he did, he was going to throttle her.