you're gone and
i gotta stay high
— all the time

the cold tears of the clouds fall upon soft, curved features, delicately carved image dancing through the air. pained expression rising to meet the darkened sky, mouth agape, upturned to the weeping clouds. stained gaze reaches the alabaster body before her, watching it shift and twist, head caressed by solid stone, wind whipping around them.

her body teeters, eyes still befalling the broken man before her. his crown was held low, his body stained with debris from the ground as he shifts himself, electric blue gaze crackling, dancing upon her ghastly form. she feels naked, bare against his gaze. at this moment she takes her own time to admire the grace of this man.

muscled bodice parallel to her own, figure of white with well toned neck leading into sloping shoulders, thick limbs tucked beneath a speckled body. flesh ripples, damp coat clinging to dark skin, eyes of amethyst sweeping over this man as he strips her down, takes her in. somewhere her heart has stopped, fear crawling up her spine to whisper cruel thoughts into her mind.

all she can manage is to lay frozen under the gaze of this broken king, this royal stag that has slipped from his throne, lost his grip on reality. delicate thoughts mingle with the darker side, weaving intricate little dances together, making a story that would haunt the crystalline beauty, sickening, twisted images of children with gaping mouths leaping upon her, stallions with flaring nostrils and fires at their hooves.

it is then that she loses herself, body shaking as she recalls the churning of her innards, the unborn babe sacrificed by the demon, never given a chance to take in the world around them, never able to learn about life or the way it works, the workings of the world's cruel beauty. never would the youth discover the voice of it's dam, the gentle touch of another being of flesh and blood, register the emotions that paint beautiful pictures upon a young, rounded face. the grace of the young angel faded, leaving but a broken childe entrapped in the womb of a gaping carcass, wings broken and life taken from it's grasp.

smooth, clouded lids slip easily over pained eyes, expression shifting to one of pain and lost grace, of broken promises and fractured hearts. nothing more is wanted than to be taken up into an embrace with this familiar stranger, to be wrapped into the tattered wings of a broken man and held close. she just wanted someone who could hold her close and care for her, take her and make her whole again, seal the fractures that run along her body and mind, piece together the shattered pieces of her broken spirit. but even then, no one could near her without bringing forth something horrid, thoughts of her days of torture, the days long since lost in the darkness she calls her conscious mind, a place where monsters dwell and demons hide, where darkness dances and the devil himself lives.

there was no beauty in her broken soul, in her fractured vessel that had a wounded soul tethered to it. a soul that longed for release, the desired something to bring a release to her broken spirit, or release itself. cut the cord that ties her to this broken body, fly free and observe this cruel, dark world from above, watch it grow beautiful before it is consumed by the darkness, death plaguing the innocent and greed flourishing in the hearts of the wicked.