and bury it before it buries me
He had spoken of a girl and emotion had bloomed inside her. Her heart still thumps painfully against her ribs. She can imagine him, with another, and her heart trips over the image. Jealousy blossoms like the flowers facing the sun and she had to reel back violent storms into the tranquil lake of her breast. She didn't care, she lies to herself as her eyes open to a tilt of a smile. His words had made tears, small and numerous, they had multiplied until she had felt as if her very heart had been flayed open for the world to see. Elena isn’t crying. She is durable and steadfast and would not let him make her cry.
Elena was beginning to realize, perhaps, her new abilities were not so much a gift. She feels like she sees so much, and yet little is revealed to her. She can feel them, all of them, and cannot block them out. She is so sensitive to the slightest of changes in another. It is overwhelming, and at times, for a girl who so enjoys the company of others, she finds herself having to escape into moments of solitude. Ever since her goddess blessed her with this ability, Elena has had to discern her own emotions from those of others, a task not so easy to perform. Then still, there are other times when she goes to Dusk Court and bathes herself in the feelings and emotions of others, closing her eyes and letting it wash over her. Her own emotions grow lost in the shuffle.
It was all she could manage just to pass someone by without being sick with the onslaught of unfamiliar emotions as she moves around Dawn and their festival. Too many highs and lows and Elena still too new to her ability. This is why she is in the forest, nature offers itself to be the stage on which Elena’s own emotions can dance freely. They sing their joy to the golden girl. Those china blue eyes close for one blissful moment.
But the singing dies and voice replaces it. “Hello?” She responds to the voice she doesn't quite believe she heard above nature’s choir. And that is when the stranger appears to her. Elena watches with careful eyes, her empathy pricks forward, but strangely—she feels nothing. “I’m not lost,” she combats, but the bruises in her eyes say otherwise. “Path?” She just as quickly questions before those pale eyes look behind him to see what she had not noticed before. A path between the trees as if magically put there before her. It is only his laughter that calls her back to the stranger.
She suddenly feels chills where there once was none. Ears fold gently against her head with his words. At the same time, she thinks she has walked down far more frightening paths before. She thinks of Marcelo in this moment first. “Elena, are you sure you should be going in there?” He says with worry in his voice, but, Elena simply gives a roll of her shoulder that tells this imaginary Marcelo that they are done with their conversation. And the sunshine girl is already moving towards the light that calls her (the fire in her recognizes the fire within it) when he speaks once more. She smiles with the promise of flowers and sends a note of laughter in his direction. “If I find any, I will be sure to bring you one. Purple just might be your color,” she adds with a final obliging grin before continuing forward.
“All you have to do is follow the lost voices…”
It is as she keeps walking down the path that she only begins to wonder… how she will know if it is the lost voices that are speaking to her, or if it is only her own voice that echoes back.
Elena was beginning to realize, perhaps, her new abilities were not so much a gift. She feels like she sees so much, and yet little is revealed to her. She can feel them, all of them, and cannot block them out. She is so sensitive to the slightest of changes in another. It is overwhelming, and at times, for a girl who so enjoys the company of others, she finds herself having to escape into moments of solitude. Ever since her goddess blessed her with this ability, Elena has had to discern her own emotions from those of others, a task not so easy to perform. Then still, there are other times when she goes to Dusk Court and bathes herself in the feelings and emotions of others, closing her eyes and letting it wash over her. Her own emotions grow lost in the shuffle.
It was all she could manage just to pass someone by without being sick with the onslaught of unfamiliar emotions as she moves around Dawn and their festival. Too many highs and lows and Elena still too new to her ability. This is why she is in the forest, nature offers itself to be the stage on which Elena’s own emotions can dance freely. They sing their joy to the golden girl. Those china blue eyes close for one blissful moment.
But the singing dies and voice replaces it. “Hello?” She responds to the voice she doesn't quite believe she heard above nature’s choir. And that is when the stranger appears to her. Elena watches with careful eyes, her empathy pricks forward, but strangely—she feels nothing. “I’m not lost,” she combats, but the bruises in her eyes say otherwise. “Path?” She just as quickly questions before those pale eyes look behind him to see what she had not noticed before. A path between the trees as if magically put there before her. It is only his laughter that calls her back to the stranger.
She suddenly feels chills where there once was none. Ears fold gently against her head with his words. At the same time, she thinks she has walked down far more frightening paths before. She thinks of Marcelo in this moment first. “Elena, are you sure you should be going in there?” He says with worry in his voice, but, Elena simply gives a roll of her shoulder that tells this imaginary Marcelo that they are done with their conversation. And the sunshine girl is already moving towards the light that calls her (the fire in her recognizes the fire within it) when he speaks once more. She smiles with the promise of flowers and sends a note of laughter in his direction. “If I find any, I will be sure to bring you one. Purple just might be your color,” she adds with a final obliging grin before continuing forward.
“All you have to do is follow the lost voices…”
It is as she keeps walking down the path that she only begins to wonder… how she will know if it is the lost voices that are speaking to her, or if it is only her own voice that echoes back.
so take away this apathy
bury it before it buries me
@Official Dawn Account
![[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
