and bury it before it buries me
Elena has begun to realize that she no longer can hear the whisper of the mountains. It used to be, that every where she went, even beside the ocean, in flat plains, those mountains built a cathedral in her heart and she could hear the way they built their wild stones around her. Elena used to love nothing more than the fresh mountain air of Hyaline, of Windskeep, of Paraiso. She can no longer hear the crashing of their waterfalls when she closes her eyes, instead she hears only the cries of gulls and the thunder of waves.
She always thinks this is the worst, when the heartache is fresh. She always imagines the this is the kind of pain that she wouldn't be able to come back from, the kind of venom that cant be cured. It takes everything she has not to gasp for breath when she drowns in emotions. Something is crumbling and she cannot feel anything but heartache and regret. She barely knows him, she understands, but Elena has always given herself far too quickly, never remembering that she so often dances on the edges of cliffs, believing she would never fall.
But Elena has shattered, she has broken, she has been fragmented. She rises every time, not like the Phoenix, but like the wounded soldier who just wants to go home.
There is a painful flip in her stomach, and Elena knows then that all she wants to do is go to Dawn and love their festival season. ‘Lets go to the river,’ she hears the calls of others and so Elena goes, picking up a steady trot she tosses her head of flaxen locks and races towards it. The soft glow of the meadow it would seem, would not be enough for this evening. Elena was after something a little more difficult to tame—the river.
She felt wild tonight, wild with jealousy (she will deny it, but it still burns hot in her veins) and wild with emotions that run high and sweet in the festival air. The music surround her only fuels her further, and her feet feel like dancing, the fireflies igniting as her audience. The high pitched flute snickers in her ears and Elena lets out a whoop of laughter, unable to contain herself. It was a beautiful night, she was in Dawn, and the air felt cool and soft against her skin. The river continues to try to wash away her concerns, her worries, her heartache. By morning Elena will go to the river bed to fetch them, so comfortable in her own misery because it has been so long since she has been without it.
She finds someone, someone younger than she, but she looks to be about the age Mina and Maren would be had Elena been around to watch them grow. “Hey,” she says brightly, approaching her. “I could use a firefly catching partner, and that guy said you were the best.” Elena smiles while gesturing to a stranger she had never spoken to. “You’re not going to let me catch them all by myself are you?”
She always thinks this is the worst, when the heartache is fresh. She always imagines the this is the kind of pain that she wouldn't be able to come back from, the kind of venom that cant be cured. It takes everything she has not to gasp for breath when she drowns in emotions. Something is crumbling and she cannot feel anything but heartache and regret. She barely knows him, she understands, but Elena has always given herself far too quickly, never remembering that she so often dances on the edges of cliffs, believing she would never fall.
But Elena has shattered, she has broken, she has been fragmented. She rises every time, not like the Phoenix, but like the wounded soldier who just wants to go home.
There is a painful flip in her stomach, and Elena knows then that all she wants to do is go to Dawn and love their festival season. ‘Lets go to the river,’ she hears the calls of others and so Elena goes, picking up a steady trot she tosses her head of flaxen locks and races towards it. The soft glow of the meadow it would seem, would not be enough for this evening. Elena was after something a little more difficult to tame—the river.
She felt wild tonight, wild with jealousy (she will deny it, but it still burns hot in her veins) and wild with emotions that run high and sweet in the festival air. The music surround her only fuels her further, and her feet feel like dancing, the fireflies igniting as her audience. The high pitched flute snickers in her ears and Elena lets out a whoop of laughter, unable to contain herself. It was a beautiful night, she was in Dawn, and the air felt cool and soft against her skin. The river continues to try to wash away her concerns, her worries, her heartache. By morning Elena will go to the river bed to fetch them, so comfortable in her own misery because it has been so long since she has been without it.
She finds someone, someone younger than she, but she looks to be about the age Mina and Maren would be had Elena been around to watch them grow. “Hey,” she says brightly, approaching her. “I could use a firefly catching partner, and that guy said you were the best.” Elena smiles while gesturing to a stranger she had never spoken to. “You’re not going to let me catch them all by myself are you?”
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Maret
![[Image: ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db...0iFb4PvyXE]](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/8026a53b-dc57-41ab-b574-9f8a8fe57ce4/ddvotwe-59302ba6-6a81-47bf-9846-30c5a5db0780.png?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7InBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzgwMjZhNTNiLWRjNTctNDFhYi1iNTc0LTlmOGE4ZmU1N2NlNFwvZGR2b3R3ZS01OTMwMmJhNi02YTgxLTQ3YmYtOTg0Ni0zMGM1YTVkYjA3ODAucG5nIn1dXSwiYXVkIjpbInVybjpzZXJ2aWNlOmZpbGUuZG93bmxvYWQiXX0.ujCJH7FAbsQhfZlQniMmEd_vw-VmvaTDn0iFb4PvyXE)
let's light this house on fire
we'll dance in the warmth of its blaze
pixel made by the amazing star
