Wednesday, November 3
I feel lame knowing who could read this.
Vines and silhouettes were her usual tendencies. They ran up her legs and twined together til she would fall. It was all force, a decision she felt she had to make, or else the thorns would rip into her flesh and eat at her insides like zombies in a feeding. She kind of just waited, checking her silhouette to see when it would leap out of the symmetry and push her, but her silhouette was beneath her. She had already fallen at her own will and the vines were nothing but petals. Her silhouette mimicked her every move, but this time it was not mocking her, it was leading her to the silhouetted man. He stood with a mask, and her heart raced to who he was, but pulling the thread did not lead her to a rip in her skin, or a reflection of her own. Instead shined a smile that stored and lingered deeply into her soul. His arm clasped her waist like a humans arm should, not winding, snapping or craving into her like the vines previous and when she didn't know what to do, his hand would appear to comfort her own, and that same goofy smile would appear right with it. It was a different feeling; to feel. It was different to want to grab this persons pain and store it in her heart knowing very well that this organ was now strong enough to not be killed by it. So they walked off, hand in hand, comfort to comfort and the vines did not follow. She looked back towards her silhouette, and simply saw her own holding hands with his, and she didn't mind.