MINYA
take that look from off your face
you ain't gunna burn my heart out
you ain't gunna burn my heart out
Minya comes before she goes to the maze. She comes drawn to the lonely wailing as a moth is drawn into the flame. She comes knowing the danger and how wrong it is. She comes because it is a woman crying Help me! into the cold emptiness of the night. She comes because her past is a sorrowful tale of not being able to help and her scars beg for forgiveness.
The dark of trees beckon her in great and tall and still. They shroud her in mist that whispers so many tales of the dead in her ear. They whisper of how a woman died, of how her murderers left her broken and gone in the deep of the wood that grows as wild thorns about her torso and pricks the skin of passersby and demands they remember. This night its thorns draw back and let the woman rise, still broken, still wronged, to wander and beg and hope that she might be saved: one day.
With each step Minya’s ire blooms. With each step her heart shatters. She wanders until she is frayed inside and only the steel of her skin is enough to hold her righteousness in. Can she find this girl and hear the story of another woman who died like her mother? Deeper and deeper Minya roams, until darkness descends thick and metallic. It presses cold upon her skin and shields all the world from her eyes. There is nothing here, int he deepest black. Nothing but the sounds of a woman crying and Minya turns towards it, her hair a fountain of brilliant pink cascading to the floor in lamentation. “Tell me.” She murmurs into the wholesome black. “Tell me what happened to you…” The girl’s voice is a croak, it is a plea, shattered by fear and the cold of night that sinks deep into her bones.
“I will listen.”
| "speaks" | notes: spoopy! <3
