Crepusculum

#artguild1

'-' I dunno what this is. I was pretty angry writing this. So enjoy this...vent?

          ❝ she   never wanted   it to   happen,

but it did, and now it has just left

her wrecked. she is just waiting for

her   paradisiacal   russet   ship   of

hope and altruistic faith in fanatic

humanity    to   completely    drown.

the icy cold water to finally kiss her

numb lips lilac to a promise filled

              sleep of deafening silence. ❞

she was a crimson fire that couldn't be doused even by the most beautiful sprinkle of cerulean water drops. but, she was the fire that was extinguished by the snowflake chill of human breath. she was a complacent beauty so non-existent, enough to lit up a whole sparse night sky mourning in its dreariness.

but, she was not brave like her flourishing mask. she was never brave enough to succeed her chipper demons. when she should have slayed them like a rambunctious queen, she decided to become a chained captive and hid under a faux white sheet of counterfeit acceptance.

but,

the fact that bogus people filled with grime and trust issues themselves think they can just throw their hypocritical opinions scented of judgement in her face, like she owes them some piece of her; one that even she doesn't have of herself.

the fact that she thinks they are right when they clearly reek of postiche.

the fact that she lets them, some unknown strangers whose existence is a burden on earth itself, who are just like fickle dust waiting to be crushed underneath her feet, she lets those people get to her and makes their cacophonous voice her own.

she becomes a stone filled with phantom pains and nightmares.

she is strong, enchanted by fraudulent echoes and shammering pleas to return. she is fire waiting to be rekindled. she is the cerise wisp of courage herself. it is not easy to continue a flamboyant spurious existence, trying to make her flailing arms straight, when all she wants is to become a sun people don't pay attention to.

she just wanted her felicitous moon to sing her lullabies and her babbling stars to soothe her back when she cried at nights hugging her pillow, because of course, her voice can't be heard. her voice is supposed to be shunned. her voice was never meant to exist.

but,

she will find her eudaimonia.

she shall become brave soon.

she will become crepuscular.

for she is, crepusculum.