My mother taught me
the distinct smell before the rain,
the promise of cleansing.
Didn’t anyone warn you
I’m what natural disasters
are named after?
I am a river,
good luck controlling me
good luck slowing me down.
There isn’t an ounce of age
to my soul.
From the morning to the evening/complaints from the tenants/got the walls kickin’ like they six months pregnant/drinkin’ Alize with our cereal for breakfast/girls callin’ cabs at dawn, quarter to seven - The Morning // House Of Balloons
And you will never feel this pretty/and you will never feel this beautiful/when I make it there, oh when I make it there - Pretty // Kissland
With your Louis V bag/tatts on your arms/high heel shoes make you 6 feet tall/everybody wants her, you can have them all/but I got what you need - The Party & The After Party // House Of Balloons
Don’t you shy away from me/just sacrifice your every last inhibition/I’m on your side/don’t patronise - Wanderlust // Kissland
Baby you could have it all/ baby you could have the clothes, the cars, the jewels, the sex, the house/baby you could be a star - Lonely Star // Thursday
When the sun goes up you’re searching for a love/but your heart won’t lead you to anyone/when the sun goes down I know what you become/you become awake unlike the rest of us - Adaptation // Kissland
You did many things that I liked, that I liked/and you like diamond rings/I can provide, I can provide for you/you made me feel so good before I left on the road/and you deserve your name on a crown, on a throne - The Town // Kissland
Welcome to the other side/your lost/baby step outside your mind/you been really gone, you been really gone/you been thinkin’ ‘bout being bad since I put you on - Life Of The Party // Thursday
I think you lost your morals girl/but its ok cos we don’t need ‘em where we’re going/in that two floor loft in the middle of the city/after rollin’ through this city with me - Loft Music // House Of Balloons
And its the most you’ve worked/even though I probably don’t deserve this, girl/but you been dreamin’ for this moment so you have too/baby its ok, I got show money baby/I wanna show you how I blow money baby/I wanna show you how I throw money baby - The Fall // Echoes Of Silence
They’re in love with this idea of love/its a shame that they’ll believe it will come/from us all, from us all/they’re in love with something bigger than love/you believe in something stronger than trust/wanderlust - Wanderlust // Kissland
This world’s not for us/it’s not what it’s seems/you’ll learn to love how to dream - Love In The Sky // Kissland
Hi, my name is Cassie, and I shouldn’t write at two am in the morning.
This drabble deals moooostly with Ary’s self-consciousness and self-doubt. It’s
not angsty, but it’s not very exciting either.
Light mentions of zelarise & taye-is-troublesome. It does also
hint at Xaan, but probably not enough to count.
Willowy limbs and knobby knees. Ringlets of white blonde and
eyes the colour of mint. When she looked in the mirror, Ary could only pick the
obvious. As she rolled her weight across the balls of her feet, the priestess’
thoughts drifted to the bamboo she remembered seeing in the Jade Forest –
pulled easily by wind as if though nothing in the world could bother it.
What a shame she was entirely unlike bamboo.
If the woman was to place how she felt at the current point
in time, she would have called herself a weed.
For, as hard as she tried to bloom in the garden of friends and close acquaintances,
she found herself wholly underwhelmed by what she saw in herself. Pale
complexion did not hold the hue of life; nor did her frame emanate all that was
womanly in curves and delicacies. No, her frame was petite and sharp – her bones
jutting out sharply from skin covered in thousands of tiny, healed scars. Her
index finger hung loosely in her mouth, draping her other fingers across her
face as she drank in her reflection and the utterly strange attire that donned
In all honesty, no one could fault her for trying. Zelly had
always suggested that she try to be more… ‘enchanting’. Yet the way that she
did it verses how such a thing looked on poor Aryette – she looked like a lamb
trying to be a lynx. She did not have the character, and so it was a poor
attempt to imitate something she could never hope to be. It was insulting.
Though it was not as if the lingerie fit her poorly. The contract
of black lace to white skin was truly something to behold, and the knee-high stockings
were warm and comfortable despite everything else. As she twisted her frame,
she tried to ignore how her hip-bones rolled over her skin and pressed sharply
to the garter she had fastened to her person. She let her free hand press just
above her stomach to feel the tiny lines that arched up to meet her open palm,
and she gently shook her head as if though unruly hair might somehow add what
No dice. A daisy could not become a rose simply by willing –
nor could she be them when she was herself. Aryette was pastels and soft lace;
not leather, stockings and black. And, while she was the only one to see, she
was the only one to decide.
“Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”
Repeating the word over and over, the young priestess
grabbed hold of her bra strap and undid it – tossing the item of clothing over
her shoulder and onto the bed. The garter was unfastened, the stockings pulled
off ( even if she almost tripped doing it ) and it plus her panties were
removed and shoved back into the box she had taken it home in. Caring not for
her nakedness, she picked up the blankets draped over her bed so that she could
kick the box under the bed to join the storage of things one ‘hid’ from plain
Standing there for a few seconds, Ary turned her head once
more to look at herself in the mirror once again. Long curls draped down over
her back, hiding larger scars bought from healing and the various work the
woman had undertaken.
This was her body, she realised. And, regardless of how she
felt, she wouldn’t get another. A daisy certainly could not be a rose, but it could
bloom just as brightly if it tried.
Surely that was what Zelly and Taye were overlooking.