crumpledfoilmind

[crumpledfoilmind]

i make a sound and hear nothing

i sigh and the void swallows my sigh

i look at waves and be happy

it doesn’t count

in the scheme

that i made

with my mind.

i thought we were above this

i thought we were the normal people now

there will always be the trace of me

that i hated

that i wrapped my hands around and drowned

so every time i inhale

i hear the lack of my inhale

and it was for the good of us all

but i survived

here as a ghost to tattle

to those you think to please

to wow

to prove to

we haven’t left this mire

we brought it with us

and now we are a hollow thing

and all our words have a hollow ring

leave no mark

word user, how do you use words

you can’t escape the shadow of your past

trailing you, why do you pretend otherwise

that you have a chance of it being good

life i mean

.

.

lay your skeletons bare

line them in rows and tuck them in

wish them good night

they only wanted love from you.

[crumpledfoilmind]

hey, how you doing, what’s the same, never have the courage to say hey, but with you-

can’t shake off the feeling i lived multiple lives, the world of my dreams is so real

so real

i wonder what makes reality a different beast, you know, sitting here listening to myself breathe

listening to the air con hum and it’s the best sound i could hear because its safe and its home

these silly words, when i say hey does it mean anything

and does it need to mean something as long as i know you replied to me

nothing tastes good and when i talk it’s no good either not for lack of listening

i just don’t have a zest for life, love, not like you do

we mask our thoughts, we wear our days like the folded pages of a zine- forwards and backwards all consistent

we’re working on artworks and startups and crafting big dreams

it’s being hidden

i marveled that day that i could see and have vision

depth and breadth and color of the world

if a sandstorm buried my reality would it be so bad for there to be nothing

not even me

to which i say get up and go on and don’t dwell

there’s reason in this chaos for you

i trace every word in your being and it makes sense

the story no on can see will be heard

dear cog in the machine if you fall away

you will be missed so stay

i could say all these things but i just smile at you

and work up the courage to be flamboyant and flippant in saying

hey, how you doing, whats the same,

[crumpledfoilmind]

in the airplane

bumpy ride

sleep behind my eyes

echoes

been here a long time

uncomfortable warmth, sweat

misting sort

i breathe out and ask

disembodied voice

“ ?”

will life love me as it has

will we know

cramped quarters

the baby curls its limbs in the womb

the casket makes its way into the grave

in an airplane i don’t know where ill go, be

being young forever in the periphery

of somebody else’s life

“dear passengers, we have neared our destination ” says this voice

i stretch my arms and yawn it is time to decide

whether i am dead or alive

a good a time as any to reflect

on -

and -

jellied thoughts break free

human again

what a dream! what a way!

and life will go on

but for now i stay here behind doublesided glass

for now I stare at the clouds,

in this airplane.

[crumpledfoilmind]

The overhead chandelier burned glaringly bright, making spots swim across my vision.

“My Lord?” I said, my voice sounding distant to my own ears. “W-what is this?”

The Yawning Claymore, in all its glory, jutted out of my chest. A red splotch bloomed, growing in size until blood dripped in slow motion to the floor.

I didn’t notice the pain, though. The sword had been hurtled out at me from across the ballroom, but I could only stare into the eyes of its yielder.

Stare, though the lights above attempted to distract me.

Stare, into his ruby coloured eyes, which I’d always thought looked like the sunset sky after a rainy day.

They still looked that way to me.

“Why?” I asked, but no sound came out of my throat. My vision became blurry, and I was finally aware of the ache spreading through my body.

I collapsed to the floor as the world dimmed. My last words didn’t make it past my lips.

“I’ll still always love you.”

-Interim-

Soft, warm sunlight permeated my eyelids.

I sat up with a gasp. My hands flew to my chest, fingers trembling as they unbuttoned my chemise.

My skin was untorn, unscarred.

“Lady Opal?” said Elise.

My maid stood by my bed, my carved mahogany four-poster positioned in my grand living quarters with delicate French windows, open to let in the morning breeze.

I was in my room. Unhurt.

“Lady Opal, did you have a bad dream?” Elise’s eyes brimmed with concern as she bent over and put a hand on my forehead. Her palm was warm, viscerally real. I was not dreaming.

Then- had I dreamt-

“Elise, what are my appointments for today?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“You have a ball, milady,” Elise said. “The ball to celebrate your marriage with ---“.

Relief flooded through me and I laughed out loud. “The ball is today! It was just a dream!”

-Interim-

I gritted my teeth to prevent the blood from pouring down my mouth. It trickled instead, closing up my throat and lending a steely taste on my tongue.

So I couldn’t ask, “Why?” as I looked at the Yawning Claymore embedded in my chest. My hands made to pull the sword out in a futile gesture.

Tears filled my eyes. I looked across the room into his own. And I knew my tears weren’t of pain, they were of sadness.

My last words faded in my mind as I slid onto the floor.

“I’ll still always love you.”

-Interim-

I sat in a rose garden. The greenhouse glass arced far above, and this time at noon, the fragrant scent of roses pervaded the area. Roses tumbled across the floor in grassy patches, they climbed the walls attached to wooden supports, and they dotted the intermittent bushes growing around the perimeter.

Roses were his favourite flower.

Before me lay a table covered in sweet delicacies and rare savoury items, on rare china accompanied by a pot of the finest tea.

“May I?” I said to the person sitting across.

His face was shaded from view. I frowned, turning my head and trying to get a better angle.

I still couldn’t see his face.

But it felt so natural to smile and laugh and say, “May I pour you a cup of tea?”

I lifted the pot, caught a bit off guard since it was so heavy, and tipped it over the teacup across.

Burning tea splashed onto the saucer.

“Oh! Please excuse me!” I said.

I gasped. The tea was blood red, and it matched the dark spot growing on the bodice of my dress.

I dropped the tea pot and it cracked on the table with an audible sound.

He finally looked up.

Coal red eyes like the night sky after a meteor.

My complaints died on my lips even as my body grew numb.

I would still always love him.

-Interim-

“Lady Opal? Lady Opal?”

Elise’s voice came from far away.

I was rooted in some place filled with anguish and sorrow, but hearing her voice, I finally woke up.

I put a hand on my chest. My heart beat as steadily as ever. I breathed in and breathed out.

“Elise,” I said. “What are my appointments for today?”

“Well there’s the ball, milady.” She said, fluffing up my blanket to air it. “The ball to celebrate your marriage to ---.”

A strange foreboding filled my chest. I kept having the same dream, over and over again. I died, --- slayed me with his Claymore every time. But yesterday- I sniffed, catching a whiff of the rose tea Elise was preparing. Yesterday was a dream, for sure. Everything else had felt so real.

“Which dress would you like to wear, Lady Opal?” said Elise, holding up a frilly pink gown and a more elegant, fitted silk green dress.

On the first night, in my excitement, I’d worn the pink.

On the second night, relieved at a second chance, I’d chosen the silk.

“Neither of these,” I said. “Can we take a look at my wardrobe?”

“But my lady-“ protested Elise. “These were made specifically for the occasion!”

“Elise,” I said. “Please take me to my wardrobe.”

Elise bowed her head. “Of course, Lady Opal.”

I donned my funeral wear. At this point I knew. None of these past nights had been a dream. They’d been the same scenario replaying for some reason or the other.

I wore a simple black robe and accessorized with black gemstones. I drew a veil over my face.

Part of me wanted to run. There was still time to call for a carriage and leave the palace. I could go far, back to Amorettia, to my parent’s estate.

But I desired, I yearned, to see my love for one last time. This really would be the last time. If I woke tomorrow with yet another chance, I’d go far away without looking back. But I needed to know. I needed to say my last words before being gently blown out like a candle flame.

-Interim-

As usual, the corridors were empty. The first two nights, I’d found this immensely strange. Now I knew that this ball was just a farce, a chance for Lord --- to kill me.

My heart was bursting. I didn’t feel it in the moment, but the pain had been intense. Of the Claymore ripping through my skin and impaling my viscera. My body reacted to that strike before it even happened.

Yet, I held my head high and carried on.

The way leading up to the ballroom was lit by few candles. The grand, carved doors groaned open by themselves as I approached.

The glow of the chandelier within beckoned me as if I were a moth to be drawn to its light.

I was a moth to be drawn to his light. I knew my weakness, my literal Achilles heel that had been my undoing every time.

“---” I said, standing on the brink. “You’re waiting to kill me, aren’t you?”

I took a deep breath and raised my foot. “Let me say it before I go.”

I crossed the threshold, waiting for the rush of air as the Claymore found its way to my heart.

“I’ll still always love you.”

There. I said it.

I didn’t search for his gaze, and neither did I need to.

I closed my eyes and smiled, even as pain spread through my body.

A memory of roses, of laughter and eyes as red as the dawn of day. Could just have been a dream. But I’d still love him, always.

[crumpledfoilmind]

my heart thuds. Comforting sound. Deep, tangible bass. I put my hand to my chest. Cold touch, warm pulse. I draw in several breaths and listen to the sound of air flowing through my nose and filling up my belly. It swells like a balloon before deflating, letting me know I am alive.

flesh prison, I am warden. Holding the keys and lacking courage to go either way. So I wait out life, let the suns rise and set in 2x speed, blurring in circles around the horizon. Glare touches my face at noon. Bores into my empty eyes. I can only feel my heart beat, quiet companionable thuds. Reassuring me. The tide hasn’t risen yet. I am still warm, and I am still alive.

shell girl, emotions seeping out of the cracks in silvery steam. I lie on the floor of my room, and my limbs don’t move. I am fed and watered, I am clean and physically healthy. Only my heart knows the truth. That I- that I- but my heart beats steadfast, keeping me breathing, keeping me living.

I had a heart from the day I emerged from the womb covered in slime. It lived for me so that I could live. I grit my teeth and get off the floor. My limbs are leaden and lethargic. My eyes burn but I do not cry. I gulp in stale air. I heave. I put a hand on my heart. Cold touch, present pulse. How lucky, lucky, lucky. To beat for me, now I live for it. How lucky to be alive.

[crumpledfoilmind]

the sticky, sweet scent of roses. I surround myself in cooling gel, the clear kind with bubbles dispersed throughout. Hand sanitizing. This smell irritates the nose. My world is so stripped of colour. Black and white and fluorescent light. Murky dream voices floating just out of hearing. Follow your heart, it’s linked up to a machine. Beeping incessantly a reminder. I am not meant to live forever. But in my four cornered room I conjure roses. And I close my eyes, sinking into amber coloured dreams. Here, where no one can tell me whether I will live or die. Heart beat lullaby in my rose tinted bubble. And I live happily ever after.

[crumpledfoilmind]

A slow tune plays. Constant echo in my ears. Tick tick of the clock. Ringing resonant. Tedium. Slowness. Sleep. Waking to lights, blurry and disorienting. Wondering about the dreams I left in the dark. Lifetimes lived. Loved ones lost. I molt, this outside of me peels like the shell of a locust. Day. Dry drought devoid of love. I thirst. Tick, tick, tick. Emerging from my cocoon. Strange and wonderous monster. Monsters in my head. I play life by the ear. And I live happily ever after.

[crumpledfoilmind]

I imbibe life. Open my mouth wide and swallow until my throat strains and my lungs burst. Smothered by living. Vibrant feelings. Pinks and greens and blues and this ferocious attempt to love being alive. Manic energy. Desperate bid, tying a ribbon to a lantern and letting it float high and high. Believing in infinity. Ultimately heaven. But first I will eat my share of fortune, before throwing it up and walking towards forever.

[crumpledfoilmind]

walk to the sea. Treading lightly, footprints in the sand fade with each step. This part of me so erasable. Wishing I could vanish. I walk into the sea whose waves are painted liquid gold and pastel tangerine and rose blush. But the inside is black and cold. Oblivion. I float on my back and close my eyes and face the starless sky. The temperature discomforts. I paddle back to the shore without making a sound, and go back to the human world. My sodden footprints stay in the sand long after I am gone.

[crumpledfoilmind]

someone on tt brought up how viktor made jayce promise to destroy the hexcore in season 1 but why did this have to happen in the most agonizing way possible

[crumpledfoilmind]

also like ‘I thought you were done with hextech… and me…’ BROKE MY HEART

[crumpledfoilmind]

Can’t articulate just how devastated I am at the progression (or lack thereof) of viktor and jayce’s dynamic. Or maybe it’s beautiful in its tragedy? I didn’t think it could get worse than ‘it was affection…’ but then like WTF jayce. All I can say is they are my babies and I will always love them

[crumpledfoilmind]

SOBBING

[crumpledfoilmind]

ARCANE SEASON 2 OPENING

[crumpledfoilmind]

His eyes are quite literally everything to me.

[crumpledfoilmind]

“You hate me,” he said, staring down through the bars. “I understand.”

I couldn’t muster any emotion as I met his gaze. In retrospect, I would call it apathy, a certain detachedness as I regarded his pale face and unreadable eyes.

In a sense, it was fitting I would be so blasé, after all, he and I were cut from the same cloth, were we not? In another world I may even have called him father.

I didn’t reply. Why should I? Alone in my cell, he could easily have been an imagining. I did this sometimes. Conjured up visions to keep my company in my desolation.

“Chimaera,” he said, after my silence. “They are to hang you at dawn. It was my decree. It is because you are a witch.”

“I-“ Reluctantly, I addressed the imagining.

“What was that?”

“I have another name. You gave it to me.” This time, as I stared insolently at my enemy, my emotionless mask began to waver, allowing accusation and a sharp, stinging intensity to build up in my eyes.

“Won’t you accept me?” I continued, voice barely above a whisper. “I am your blood.”

The man, the monster, my father, took a step back and laughed. A tinny, ringing, artificial sound. Staged, but then, I no longer trusted my senses. Distortion affected the edges of all I perceived.

As he walked away, footsteps echoing on the stone, I smiled an ugly, twisted smile. I never knew, until the last moment. Whether what I had seen was real. Any acknowledgement- and it easily could have been a fiction.

“Bird,” came an urgent whisper. “Bird, we’re here to get you out.”

I resumed humming as I twisted my fingers together. Cat’s cradle for idle times. A few hours before my execution and the voices in my head had started to act up again.

“Come on, Bird,” The voices continued. “Can’t you hear me?”

“Can’t hear you, or won’t,” I giggled, beginning a new hymm under my breath. Rosemary’s Apple.

Scraping sounds interrupted my rhythm, followed by a heavy jangling. Rough hands shook my shoulders. I could smell dirt on them. Olfactory hallucinations were not in my repertoire. I sighed, wiping my face of perspiration. This was real. Or I had gone completely insane.

“I’m here,” I spoke, or rather forced words out. My voice sounded slurred, as though I were speaking in a dream. “Bird. Chimaera. Witch. Abandoned drivel. They’re going to hang me,” I sniggered. “Sunup. Two hours, would you say? Or four- I’ve had a hard time keeping track of the time,”

“Bird-stay with us.” Anxious eyes peered into my own. My heart recoiled at their openness.

“I-I-“ Ringing my hands, I reached out and knocked  the person’s forehead. “Is this real?” My hands shook in violent motions before spasming back to my sides.

“What did they do to you, Bird?” This time, the voice felt floaty and far-away. I hated the way it spoke. Pathetic I may have been, but I still had my pride.

Suddenly, my surroundings- my dark cell with its perpetually damp walls faded to black. I addressed the inky, one-dimensional plane around me. “I can’t control it,” I said. “I can’t control the visions.”

My voice was small in all this vastness, pealing out like the whining of a wounded animal. “They will kill me. I can’t control- my own father-“

A warmth engulfed my trembling hands. Another clasped mine in a firm grasp. Touch. My awareness slowly morphed back into the cell.

“Is this real?” I asked again, looking around for those eyes. Once I found them I latched on as if to an anchor. “Who are you?”

“Oh Bird, don’t you remember?” The voice belonging to the eyes and warm hands said.

I shook my head and drew in a sharp breath. Multiple feelings contended within me, creating a writing mass that rendered me unable to express anything.

So I shut down my mind as the hands dragged me through the slick stone halls along a cold floor and away from the world of my cell, and I was finally free.

[crumpledfoilmind]