Comments Posted By Skäila
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I’ll visit, she had said, at the very beginning of it all. I’ll come see you every day.
He’d nodded and grinned and expected nothing less.
At first she did come. She came and they laughed and when she left, it was to close the door gently behind her with a last glance back at his slumped figure on the couch, only his head visible from under the blanket that she had thrown over him. He woke in the morning to see the dazed light of the afternoon spilling through the skylight at his feet and a note taped to the top of a little paper box. “I baked cupcakes for you,” he read slowly as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Take care of yourself.”
The next day, it was the same, but different. They laughed about different things. She had lunch with him, but she had an important meeting to attend during dinner. The day after that, she stayed the entire day. They curled up together on the couch and watched a horror movie together. She screamed at all the right times and hid her face in his chest and then afterwards he gave her a back massage. The next day she brought him a stack of books and a new sketchbook. They painted together until the sun set and then they had a quiet dinner under the watchful moon in the backyard behind his house. She visited, she left, and the next day he woke. Day after day after day, they kept blurring into the next day and then, after that, next.
“I’m sorry, but we’re pushing a new product through. I’ll have to stay overtime, so I can’t spend the whole day with you anymore.” She told him one day, eyebrows tilted in apology. He nodded his understanding, because he wasn’t a selfish person, and he knew it was unreasonable of him to expect that she would stay with him forever, because she was a person too, and she had a life beyond him.
But a little piece of him was petulant. Days became hours. She dropped in before work, during lunch, after a particularly long and boring meeting. She brought him little cakes from cafes and sprigs of pine needles.
» Posted By Skäila On 10.29.2014 @ 3:09 am
he had her at hello.
she blinked once, twice, sharp words frozen on her tongue as he proceeded to tilt his head curiously and smile at her. slightly thrown by his greeting, she frowned and looked away with a small huff.
he waved a thin, elegant, hand in front of her face – fingers still tapered gently, she noted, slender and graceful like the rest of him. “what, you’re not going to say hello back?” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. “that’s so rude.”
“shut up.” she remarked, but her lips were already curving into a smile. “you didn’t tell me you would be back so soon.”
a hand on her shoulder, a quick yank, and then she was eclipsed in his arms, face buried against the warmth of his woolen sweater. instinctively, she hugged him tight as his chin rested on the top of her head in a familiar and comforting position. she was still so much shorter than him, she noted with a sigh.
his breath tickled her hair as he spoke. “no,” he said softly, “because i wanted to surprise you.”
» Posted By Skäila On 10.08.2014 @ 9:09 pm
“Our fates were stapled together,” she smirked. “Our lives were intertwined.” Then she leaned forward and ruffled his hair reassuringly. “But I broke the curse, you know? So you die and I’ll die. But if I die…you’ll survive.”
He shook his head frantically, his eyes widening in silent horror as he understood. “So that’s why-”
She nodded and stepped back. “I came to say goodbye.”
» Posted By Skäila On 07.24.2013 @ 4:47 pm
Manhattan, with its tall shivery buildings held in embraces of cold stone and silver glass, frozen in repose over the night sky and distant horizons. She loved Manhattan with its last two syllables tripping over each other on her tongue and the small personal cafes with their walls of warmth defrosting her face after a battle with the chill wind. She loved steadfast winter in Manhattan with streetlights shattering sparks over shiny stones embedded in the sidewalk asphalt, shining in rainbows against the stark black of the evening sky. She loved Manhattan in its death and its dark, and loved Manhattan all the more in its life and its light, accepting the city for what it was: a story cherished in the hearts of children, a dream crumpled at the bottom of a desolate, polluted river, a hope with wings spread against the shuttered landscape, a yearning desire to be free. Manhattan was all these things, and more.
» Posted By Skäila On 05.17.2013 @ 2:09 am
Her face is nestled against his shoulder; she’s burrowed into the warmth and safety of his embrace. She’s long since stopped sniffling, and her quiet huffs and jerky movements have gradually melted away into soft and quivering breaths. Her long hair is mussed and tangled, itchy against his neck. Her tears have dried on her face, but his shirt remains wet against his skin where she’d cried on him. It’s terribly uncomfortable, holding her: her weight is pressed into him and she’s surprisingly heavy for someone so slender, but he wouldn’t let go of her for the world.
He feels her breath flutter against his cheek and he smiles.
» Posted By Skäila On 04.20.2013 @ 4:03 pm
She’s standing at the very edge: eyes focused on the churning water below, the turbulent white-capped waves that tossed and turned as if the ocean were a sleepy child caught in the throes of a terrible nightmare. It would be so easy, she thinks. It would be the easiest thing in the world: to step into that cold embrace, to let yourself sink to the very bottom, to not think. To not feel.
It would be so easy. But she steps away carefully from the edge of the cliff.
» Posted By Skäila On 04.20.2013 @ 11:36 am
The end is near, they told her, and that was partly what enabled her to go on.
She looked them in the eye and reiterated: “I don’t want to die.”
Their reply was simple: “Then don’t let it end.”
» Posted By Skäila On 01.13.2013 @ 11:43 am
she loved the smell and the feel and the look of blank paper. she raised her eyes from the sheet of white in front of her and breathed a happy sigh. the sky outside her window panes was foggy, with gray clouds and silver linings and a bright cerulean blue that peeked out from between the swathes of white. her whole world was here: encapsulated in a heart of content, in shifty stormy skies and the anticipation of petrichor and the faded breathless beauty of open air and freedom.
she looked back at that paper, closed her eyes. picked up her pen. she was prepared to write.
» Posted By Skäila On 10.18.2012 @ 6:23 pm
“act like civilized human beings, please.” she snapped, and both boys, wearing large grins on their faces, turned to look at her.
“but that’s no fun,” they pouted in unison.
» Posted By Skäila On 10.16.2012 @ 5:37 pm
she hesitates- one crucial second gone. her dagger’s diverted, whereas moments ago it would have buried itself deep into his chest. she shakes her head. it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter anymore, nothing matters- he’d killed the only one she’d ever loved and now it was an eye for an eye, and her world had been swallowed in ice and she felt nothing, nothing anymore except a cold burning need to see him fall.
no, she decided as she dodged his blows and retreated. death was too good for him.
» Posted By Skäila On 10.16.2012 @ 1:02 am
people bury the things they loved most of all, so it can’t hurt them anymore, but as she stares out into the foggy crystal sky she wishes that she hadn’t. so what if remembering hurt even more than silence? at least then the memories that she kept would never fade. at least then she could have, however faint, a recollection of happiness in all its glorious light. she could have fed and lived off of that, rather than remaining in the dank darkness of self-imposed isolation. she’d buried all her emotions and regrets and now, she feels nothing.
» Posted By Skäila On 10.15.2012 @ 7:16 pm
do the angels smile when they
peer down upon the squalid earth?
and feel fortunate that they reside above in
heaven? or do they cry raindrops and shed icy
water like pearls onto our glossy, innocent existence?
» Posted By Skäila On 10.14.2012 @ 12:07 pm
A modicum of apathy filters through
this blank space, this empty hollow
this memory of fated serpents,
twisted, twining, curling in cyclo-
hexanes of infinitesimally tiny
lives, wrapping and choking and
irreversibly binding. and in a single
ethereal moment, a paradox is born,
rending the universe into pieces and shreds
and the backspace button is pressed.
» Posted By Skäila On 05.17.2012 @ 4:10 pm
I could be nominated for the world’s biggest coward. I only know that I would never get anywhere if I didn’t act. Yet the opportunity slipped by and I remained there, crouching, afraid, unsure, guilty. I was immobilized, broken, scared out of my wits. Fear and cowardice are not the same thing. It was his sacrifice that made me who I am now. It was him who had given up everything for me, him who had given me something that I would never be able to deserve. “For you, a thousand times over.”
» Posted By Skäila On 05.05.2012 @ 2:51 pm
She was like a swan: beautiful and gentle and slender with such consummate grace. And just as unapproachable. Her hair was as white and as pure as a blank piece of paper, yet unused, and her dark eyes shimmered and sparkled mysteriously.
So he was mystified when she hugged him close and whispered under her breath, “I don’t deserve you.”
“Why,” he asked.
She said nothing, just stared at him with the stars in her eyes, stared at him like a little girl who’d reached for the sky and just been told that she would never be able to fly.
» Posted By Skäila On 04.21.2012 @ 9:16 am
His hands trembled slightly. He leaned over, fought against his conscience, and finally picked up the diary. It lay limp and fragile and dusty in his hands. A chronicle of someone else’s life: a privacy that he was never supposed to intrude. Yet here he was…
He turned to the first page, whispered the words to himself like a long-forgotten lullaby.
“April 21st, 1973. How can it be so hard?” A deep breath. “All I ever wanted, was to be happy.”
» Posted By Skäila On 04.19.2012 @ 9:47 pm
“tell me a lie.” she said shortly, her expressive green eyes begging for understanding, trying to communicate something when even she herself didn’t know what she was trying to say.
“a lie?” he said thoughtfully. that small frown of concentration furrowed in his face.
“i hate you.” finally, he looked up. his eyes were solemn.
a small smile broke out on her face. “not bad. try again.”
his eyes widened. “what, that wasn’t enough for you?”
she shook her head emphatically.
“fine.” he said slowly. “uh…you’re ugly? you’re cruel and mean and no one loves you?”
“your insults are terrible.” she laughed. her moods were mercurial; her somber tone quickly vanishing in the face of her amusement. “so what are you really trying to say?”
he couldn’t help but smile back at her. “i love you. will you marry me?”
» Posted By Skäila On 03.31.2012 @ 9:44 pm
who am i kidding? ghosts are not real. they simply float in the corner of my vision, like a rainy day that has lightened into slight sprinkles, until all that is left are the puddles, flowing over the drenched landscape. yet still, it is just a mirage, ascribed by exhaustion and the will of the fates. ghosts and rain: remnants of a storm unbroken, drifting blearily for a second, but in less than a second, before you have time to blink, it is already gone.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.31.2012 @ 12:48 am
“she disappeared yesterday, right?”
“really? i haven’t heard.”
“it was the usual crime.” her voice was hushed, almost as if she was imparting a terrible secret. “she had it, you know? the-” she couldn’t bring herself to say it. “well, it’s a shame.”
he shook his head in dismay. “the list just keeps getting longer.”
“well, what do you expect? she deserved everything she got.”
“did she?” he paused. “does anyone ever get what they deserve?”
“it doesn’t matter either way. she’s gone now, and that’s the end of it. there’s no point in talking about it.”
“she was your best friend, wasn’t she?”
“like i said, it doesn’t matter.” she sighed. “she was just one from a litany of souls. one from a list of people that no longer exist.”
» Posted By Skäila On 03.28.2012 @ 5:43 pm
“i’d like to catch you like i’d catch a falling star” he mused.
she huffed. “i’m not a maiden in distress or the damsel in disguise. i’m a tomboy, and you better get that straight before i become violent.”
“i’m sure you’re very violent.” he laughed.
she glared. “excuse me?”
“what i meant was-” he raised a thin eyebrow. “you could’ve fooled me.”
“i can show you how violent i can be.” she crossed her arms.
he backed away slightly, his expression amused. “no thanks. but i still think you’re too much of a girly-girl.”
“nah,” she shrugged, her green eyes sparkling. “you’re the feminine one. you’ve always been the sissy.”
he looked wounded. “as if.”
“no,” she sighed finally. “i think i’ll settle for being the catcher, and you can be the one that’s falling.”
“but you’re too late.” he said softly, his dark blue eyes on her.
“because,” he grinned. “i’ve already fallen.”
» Posted By Skäila On 03.27.2012 @ 6:47 pm
“come on!” she watched as he shouted to the new girl on his arm. he got a different girl every week, and he almost seemed to parade them in front of her as if he was not just content with shoving a knife into her heart; he also had to twist it deeper. this week’s girl was a beauty, her smile dazzling, her fiery hair curling behind her in wisps, as if washed by an invisible wind. she was unguarded, her beauty carved to the hilt, unaware that next week she would just be another one of the people he had used and discarded, left behind like trash littered on a dusty sidewalk.
she knew she shouldn’t care. she knew it didn’t even matter. yet somehow she still felt lonely inside, scarred somehow, as if after he’d left her, her soul had vanished along with him, leaving only a residue of bittersweet memories.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.23.2012 @ 8:28 pm
as the sun rises in the east
and sets in the west
her eyes sparkle and shine
but they’re dull inside.
as the pawns on the chess board
turn into queens
she alone never moves;
she alone, is a
a fixed form, she doesn’t
» Posted By Skäila On 03.22.2012 @ 6:00 am
a room curved as if on the inside
of a pastel-colored shaded egg
walls painted such a thin robin’s blue
the air chokes me and the shadows
leaks red pain, the pain of blood
like a bump on the inside of my throat
rough as it slides down
the precipice of grief:
this is the room where my baby
sister died before she was born
the place where my father killed my mother
insisting, all the while, that
he was only saving her
» Posted By Skäila On 03.16.2012 @ 9:18 pm
The pattern on her cloak was one of stars
dark and shimmering and not-quite sheer
a melancholy of whirling colors, etched
themselves into my memory.
The color of her hair was one of light,
a buttery gold of a butterfly’s wing,
unfolding in the sky.
the tender leaf of her apple-bright eyes
blinked at me once, twice,
I grinned at her, nodded, extended one hand,
clutched her thumb to mine, her palm against my palm,
fingers intertwined. her eyes were large and liquid and hollow,
her wrists skinny, her stature short and gracile and somehow
uncertain. a small figure, a shadow on the edge of my vision,
a heart like the baby bird with its broken feathers,
one I could have crushed underneath my bare feet.
but instead, I plucked a fallen star from her slender shoulders
shook the burnt sugar from her syrup-bronzed tresses
folded a fallen leaf from my pocket into hers,
and reminded her never
to let go.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.15.2012 @ 7:14 pm
For the duration of this disease, you will be afflicted with overpowering urges to flinch, shiver, cry, stare hopelessly at the stars or other romantic symbols. You will feel the need to contemplate future possible dates or situations in which the object of your abrupt fascination will somehow interact with you in a meaningful way. For the duration of this disease called love, you will be thoroughly miserable.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.14.2012 @ 4:52 pm
they say that those who struggle for every inch of happiness, crawled across every blistering surface of hate to attain their legacy, are the ones that are truly strong. because they have that belief, that conviction, to keep them going. that iron will and perseverance that shutters their eyes like a closed blind to the window of the soul. they possess that which ordinary people lack, that inner fire, that invisible belief in oneself.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.12.2012 @ 8:06 pm
swallow the skies, the creeks
the muddy banks, the forests
they take nature and destroy
creating plastic people
that can never be recycled
» Posted By Skäila On 03.11.2012 @ 2:15 pm
he looked down, and it was then that she knew she was dismissed.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.09.2012 @ 3:54 pm
she demonstrated what it felt like to burn in front of the class. what it felt like to fall as fast as a shooting star, to shine so brightly for a fleeting moment that you left spots in people’s eyes long after you had fallen. she showed us, what it was like to make that suicide leap- to give up everything you have, without gaining anything that you thought you would get. and in the end, ashes to ashes: she had returned like the rest of us would, to the earth that gave us life in the first place, envying the stars that shone beyond.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.07.2012 @ 9:16 pm
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i lived in a small town for most of my life.
a faded memory swathed in years of simple harmony
an uncomplicated life as thin as the string that bound me to it
only years of sunshine and meadows, living a life of
singular emotions, short and unyielding and gone in a
fleeting second, my heart never full enough to
the brim with emotions scarcely understood,
never had a stream or creek that overflowed,
never took that jump off a risky precipice:
i only knew that life for what it was, simple
and uncluttered and small, and until now
i never knew how sad it really was.
» Posted By Skäila On 03.04.2012 @ 6:36 pm