Okami
12-20-2003, 05:16 PM
I'd fallen into an obsession, like the angel Lucifer from Heaven. A normal teenage destiny of living in the shadows. Sleeping dreams of reality worlds created for those who know only suffering. Where waking up is your own special Hell, and you're the bride of Frankenstien's creation. I had my reality and they had theirs.
The girl was tall and thin with eyes smokey blue. The surface of their water, calm, with the slightest expression of a tide. That silent pull of pain, that made you realize they weren't quite of this world, the undertow of difference.
When she smiled, my lips had strings that tied around my ears, and my stomach was latched to a roller-coaster that just kept going. Her words lingered like that of Frost's Fire and Ice. She was a writer, a character, and I her avid reader. It is embaressing to think how one person created my living Hell, my sleeping world. That when I was awake I hungered without food, and when I was alseep I had but what I was taunted with in wake.
I would call her Catara, for she was my spirit, my wings. Without wings one can not fly out of Hell, but with a spirit one is always persued. Lucifer never likes to let a life live free if he can catch it before it can get away. However, this is not a story of how I came to escape my obsession, but how I came to meet it again.
After months had passed without seeing her, I saw her once again. Where in dream I had sworn no angel, save Lucifer, existed beyond Heaven's gates, now on the earthly plane she walked. My lips turned up and in quiet repose. I decided to let the her beauty dwindle without the help of such a creature as I. However, she swirled around on holy wind, and greeted me with a light the shadows had never seen and, that which never entered Lucifer's domain.
And I remembered the difference of her eyes, and the wings she had given me, forever obsessed.
The girl was tall and thin with eyes smokey blue. The surface of their water, calm, with the slightest expression of a tide. That silent pull of pain, that made you realize they weren't quite of this world, the undertow of difference.
When she smiled, my lips had strings that tied around my ears, and my stomach was latched to a roller-coaster that just kept going. Her words lingered like that of Frost's Fire and Ice. She was a writer, a character, and I her avid reader. It is embaressing to think how one person created my living Hell, my sleeping world. That when I was awake I hungered without food, and when I was alseep I had but what I was taunted with in wake.
I would call her Catara, for she was my spirit, my wings. Without wings one can not fly out of Hell, but with a spirit one is always persued. Lucifer never likes to let a life live free if he can catch it before it can get away. However, this is not a story of how I came to escape my obsession, but how I came to meet it again.
After months had passed without seeing her, I saw her once again. Where in dream I had sworn no angel, save Lucifer, existed beyond Heaven's gates, now on the earthly plane she walked. My lips turned up and in quiet repose. I decided to let the her beauty dwindle without the help of such a creature as I. However, she swirled around on holy wind, and greeted me with a light the shadows had never seen and, that which never entered Lucifer's domain.
And I remembered the difference of her eyes, and the wings she had given me, forever obsessed.