Private we were staring at the flowered wallpaper [lyr]

take this burden away from me
and bury it before it buries me

Elena believes there exists another universe, another universe with her in it, a universe where her parents lived, where they never left Windskeep, where there was no war, there was no tragedy, no illness. She plays with her parents in the lake, she cries when they leave her for more than a second, she asks to go to grandma’s house. She grows from baby to child. She asks a million and one questions, they answer them all, she picks flowers, puts them in everyone’s hair. She grows from child to teenager. She breaks the rules, she gets grounded, she says she hates them, she cries in the middle of the night say how much she loves them, wishing she hadn't said that. She grows from teenager to woman. She meets a soldier, falls in love, she moves away, but not too far, close enough to visit every evening before the first evening star appears.

And she keeps getting older, side by side with the Elena that we know.

This universe exists either above or below her, unnoticed, unreachable as it runs parallel to the life she lives now. That Elena doesn't think about the other life she could have had, on another plane of stars. She is too busy staring at the man with eyes of amber like her father that sits not so far off, where is strong legs will one day walk her down to marry that man she sits with.

If he told her he was a poet, she would tell him she was a dancer. And maybe, had she not been so jostled around, so lost, she could have been a ballerina worthy of de Clare. She could have taken his words and made a dance from him, made his stories come to life, his words her lyrics, her dance steps.

She would take the blood that stains his pages and paint the stage with it.

Elena shouldn't be touching him like this, but she has always so longed for physical contact, to make that connection. So she lingers there for a second longer. “You are too kind, to a girl you don’t even know, Lyr.” She says, but even that sounds false coming from her lips. If someone asked Elena tomorrow about Lyr, she would smile like she has known him for far longer than just a sunset and a few smiles.

His idea sends those golden ears to prop upon her head amongst those flaxen locks. “That sounds exactly like something we need,” she sees and presses her shoulder into his, her blue eyes balanced perfectly against the sunset as it begins to draw towards a close. “Let’s make tonight ours,” she says before moving off and down from the tower.

When she comes to the bottom of the stairs she looks to her side at the pale stallion, she wonders if there is still the taste of salt in his mouth from the tears he had cried. She smiles anyway. “Ready?” She asks, brightly, looking ahead. The city unfolds before her like it has known and loved her forever. She looks at Lyr, the night feels new. It cleanses them more than holy water ever could.

so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me