and bury it before it buries me
Their dance had always been fatal, Elena had no idea just how so. And maybe it is her fate to be damned— born of romantics of the worst kind (heartsick, both fated for each other in the ways of poets, in the ways of love too-consuming exist), of course such feelings would then exist in her own veins. Elena was her own demise at the end of the day. She has put every scar on her body, has asked for every bruise that sits behind her blue eyes.
Elena had never imagined that one day the sadness would swallow her whole.
She had never imagined that this world she loves so much, this world she had adored, would care fissures that run through her skin, canyons placed there by death, grief, forsaken love, and greed. Dragging their fingers through her flesh—leaving her hollowed out.
Her skies that had once been so blue (like a summer’s day, illuminated by the sun.) And they had turned stormy and Elena, with all her grace, had turned to face it and she was swallowed by the hurricane, whipped by the winds, and battered by the driving rain. The tsunami had drenched her. And she had looked at him, his shadows among the bonfire that summer night, and the seed of desire had been planted in her. It had turned something pure within her and morphed it into something she did not recognize. It had turned into something she could not understand or name or, more often than not, even confess.
It left her blue eyes peering into the shadows more times than she cared to admit. Looking for the blue sheen of his eyes and the glow of his skin.
How fitting it would be those same eyes that find her now, the same skin that she rests up as she takes her from the water. She breathes in, shallow, ragged, water logged. She breathes in his fear and it mutates in her mouth, transforms in her lungs.
They are on the shore. Her lips are clamped tightly together—like lips pressed into a kiss. It smells of salt, and she can feel the thin layer that is sticking to her, the sand that clings like children to their mothers. There is the feeling of water drenched hair being swept aside, revealing the heart shaped marking that sits beneath flaxen hair.
Elena.
It is faint. She thinks it is another vision, and she wants to cry, if she could open her eyes perhaps she would weep right there in the sand with the sea lapping against her legs. Elena! His nearness, his voice suddenly brightens something within her and the sound of his heartbeat is enough to drive her mad with the fever of her desire, but she bites back at it as she suddenly opens her eyes and stares up at him.
I told you not to come.
I don’t want to see you again.
Leave me alone, please.
The list of words, sentences breathed is endless, but Elena offers him nothing but a blue eyed gaze as she looks up at him, the dying bonfires still offering them light as it reflect against the ocean water. She breathes in confessions she doesn't wish to say to him. Her golden sides heave then as she brings deep breaths of air into her lungs, drinking int he autumn air, the silver of the moon washing her with milky light. She does not know how she ended up here. She does not know who she is or what she is doing anymore. She cannot dip her fingers into her chest and find a heart that she recognizes.
She is lost, and she has no idea how to go about finding herself again.
And so she reaches out to the first thing she sees, in her watery haze it is so easy to confuse salvation and sin that she is reaching out towards him like he might offer her the earlier. Her head presses against his own as she breathes. His own desires fill her and she can feel his own need sinking beneath her skin. His emotions cloud her own judgment and Elena’s emotions, the words of fire that had hinged on her lips are lost in the shuffle. “Tenebrae,” she practically whispers. Said so differently than that day at the hospital, where there was once disdain there is now relief. Where there was once anger there is thrill. “Tenebrae,” she says again, those blue eyes searching his face for all the familiarity she has coveted. “Why?” She asks him, and it is only when the water clears her mind that her voice begins to inch towards those flames again. Why did he save her? Why did he press such sweet emotions into her chest only to reach for them back? Why did he have to split his heart in so many ways (duty, faith, a mermaid, a fae.)
“Why did you do this?” And it takes all her strength to ask. She lets her body collapse against him, clutching so tightly so a rope she knows will never have the strength to hold her.
Elena had never imagined that one day the sadness would swallow her whole.
She had never imagined that this world she loves so much, this world she had adored, would care fissures that run through her skin, canyons placed there by death, grief, forsaken love, and greed. Dragging their fingers through her flesh—leaving her hollowed out.
Her skies that had once been so blue (like a summer’s day, illuminated by the sun.) And they had turned stormy and Elena, with all her grace, had turned to face it and she was swallowed by the hurricane, whipped by the winds, and battered by the driving rain. The tsunami had drenched her. And she had looked at him, his shadows among the bonfire that summer night, and the seed of desire had been planted in her. It had turned something pure within her and morphed it into something she did not recognize. It had turned into something she could not understand or name or, more often than not, even confess.
It left her blue eyes peering into the shadows more times than she cared to admit. Looking for the blue sheen of his eyes and the glow of his skin.
How fitting it would be those same eyes that find her now, the same skin that she rests up as she takes her from the water. She breathes in, shallow, ragged, water logged. She breathes in his fear and it mutates in her mouth, transforms in her lungs.
They are on the shore. Her lips are clamped tightly together—like lips pressed into a kiss. It smells of salt, and she can feel the thin layer that is sticking to her, the sand that clings like children to their mothers. There is the feeling of water drenched hair being swept aside, revealing the heart shaped marking that sits beneath flaxen hair.
Elena.
It is faint. She thinks it is another vision, and she wants to cry, if she could open her eyes perhaps she would weep right there in the sand with the sea lapping against her legs. Elena! His nearness, his voice suddenly brightens something within her and the sound of his heartbeat is enough to drive her mad with the fever of her desire, but she bites back at it as she suddenly opens her eyes and stares up at him.
I told you not to come.
I don’t want to see you again.
Leave me alone, please.
The list of words, sentences breathed is endless, but Elena offers him nothing but a blue eyed gaze as she looks up at him, the dying bonfires still offering them light as it reflect against the ocean water. She breathes in confessions she doesn't wish to say to him. Her golden sides heave then as she brings deep breaths of air into her lungs, drinking int he autumn air, the silver of the moon washing her with milky light. She does not know how she ended up here. She does not know who she is or what she is doing anymore. She cannot dip her fingers into her chest and find a heart that she recognizes.
She is lost, and she has no idea how to go about finding herself again.
And so she reaches out to the first thing she sees, in her watery haze it is so easy to confuse salvation and sin that she is reaching out towards him like he might offer her the earlier. Her head presses against his own as she breathes. His own desires fill her and she can feel his own need sinking beneath her skin. His emotions cloud her own judgment and Elena’s emotions, the words of fire that had hinged on her lips are lost in the shuffle. “Tenebrae,” she practically whispers. Said so differently than that day at the hospital, where there was once disdain there is now relief. Where there was once anger there is thrill. “Tenebrae,” she says again, those blue eyes searching his face for all the familiarity she has coveted. “Why?” She asks him, and it is only when the water clears her mind that her voice begins to inch towards those flames again. Why did he save her? Why did he press such sweet emotions into her chest only to reach for them back? Why did he have to split his heart in so many ways (duty, faith, a mermaid, a fae.)
“Why did you do this?” And it takes all her strength to ask. She lets her body collapse against him, clutching so tightly so a rope she knows will never have the strength to hold her.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Tenebrae <3
![[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
