those hands! the reflections!

today, i awoke and there were tears on my pillowcase that i did not remember shedding – as if my body knew, before my mind, that i was waking into a nightmare.

there is a dark cloud that is lingering above my heart. it aches, and i feel the fire of a thousand hopes being ignited by the torches of those with scowling faces and black-as-ash hearts;

today, i awoke and smelled smoke, and it seemed too much of a cliche to even be true.

i hold the hands of those i love most, and i can see the fear reflected in their eyes.

do you want to know why i am afraid? because i am one day going to raise a daughter in a world that told her that her sexual safety is not enough; i am going to raise a son in a world that told him that if you bully, you will succeed.

the sun came out this morning, even though i can feel the knots turning themselves into metal in my stomach. the sun came out this morning, and i hold the hands of those i love most – i hold the hands of those whose hearts are bleeding just as profusely as my own.

and the smoke doesn’t smell like death, anymore. i think of the word “hope.”

have you ever heard of a phoenix?

—  mourning today, battle tomorrow // (h.q.)

Beast Boy often found himself fascinated with Raven’s hands. There was a sort of strange, reserved softness to them that spoke of her history and tribulations, sometimes the ones that she was too frightened to talk about. Conversely, Starfire’s hands spoke of strength and power, quick to light with energy if her righteous fury surged through her. Her hands were scarred from battle, but those fights never even reflected in her personality, leaving her sweet and innocent and everything she should have been.

Raven, however, had always been different. Her hands were delicate, smooth, nearly perfect, but these things hid the truth inside her. There was indescribable evil inside her that she was forced to fight everyday. She was helpless against the demon inside, a real reminder of the stain of sin splashed across her soul. And yet her hands spoke none of this. Her hands showed her in the way he wanted to see her: perfect.

Beast Boy, glancing around the room to ensure they were alone, threaded his fingers through her own, and lifted her hand to his lips.

Raven never once looked up from her book, but she didn’t have to, Beast Boy saw her smile just the same.