hair in the sunlight

croceos  asked:

silken dreams dust the air with visions unseen. tapestries woven with starlight, the faint glimmer of creation still hums soundly in the night-sky. her smile does not falter in the darkness. she burns so that others do not have to. she calls for her friend to settle beside her, so they may dream again, together. ❛ o' tiamate ... come rest with me, sing me songs from a forgotten age. ❜

@croceos

—- Eos, o’ Eos: so gentle with the sunlight burned into her hair. She asked a request friendly, inviting and warm. Foreign and unwonted, and yet not. For so long had relentless mercury hues seen only FIRE & WAR; such moments were but an unfulfilled wish in an age immemorial, in the center of all. She recalled colliding orbs and volatile suns. Home was not beautiful; but violent and barbaric.

      This Eden they created, received their praiseful slumbers and hilarity filled symphonies. Neither to be declined nor opposed, the heavens shall witness the peaceful choir of two. Diamonds twinkled like fairy dust upon a velvet of onyx, far above and out of their reach. Astral kin turned their backs towards the black, and void of purpose; forgot about their precious wings. They were the fallen, the stray orphans — and they could turn back nevermore. Would you miss home, my lovely ray of dawn? Just as this Siren did? But remember… Remember these stars were merely ECHOES of destruction. A yearn to fade away; thus their story at last came to an end, whilst such were not to compare to the purity of your ever reverted light. Light that had risen morning for morning as you waked again.

       Did you dream, friend? Of the past? — she wondered as silver waves joined those of gold. But of course you did, what silly question. Tenderness drew a smirk with a wading shade of serenity. Honesty was to bless her reaction. Her tune, simultaneously raw but soft. “Thou wants us to sing the hymns of olden times, dear? Home calls upon us both tonight, we see.” 

       Fresh were these winds. So crisp, so clear did they accompany the Hydraean’s lullaby, when she rested together with the Aurora of harmony underneath moon shine. 

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.
Move on, leave, run away, escape this place… but don’t forget about me, about us, about this town. Always remember where you come from so you can appreciate how far you’ve come.
—  c.j.n.
We throw around the word never likes its nothing but a small rose petal. The word never is a doubled edged sword. On one side it says ‘I will never leave you’ and on the other it says ‘I will never love you.’
—  The Word Never
Looking back, I can’t remember the truth. I blew everything out of proportion so I could feel the hurt and betrayal and write about it in vivid detail. It was my own method of torture. My own undoing; and I enjoyed every second of it.
—  c.j.n.