✝┆THE VIRGIN MARY. *ap

diabulii:

                              you’d think     ,         with a heart so gold and love so kind    ,      she’d move on to better things   .     she’d come to realize that chase was just a boy full of broken promises    ,     a boy full of fear     ,      a boy scarred and a boy cruel and a boy whose one reflex was to run away   .     she knew some of those things   .     it took time    ,     but she realized he was scared    ,     he was weak    .     weaker than her    ,     anyway     .   alas  ,  this didn’t deter her affections or wither away her loyalty    .     if anything    ,    it made them stronger---------      her persistence and patience taking over her love    .    she wanted to help him    .     she wanted to prove to him that ,    utterly and truly   ,    she loved him    .      she wanted to show to him that her intentions were only good   ,       and that he didn’t have to keep pretending to be this big bad wolf that she knew he only portrayed himself to be  ,   a means to isolate himself    ;   it was easier to be feared than to be loved    ,     she knows   she knows she knows   !    but god    ,    was it hard    .      damn     ,     was it tough     .     it was so painful to love so hard only to be left so many times   .    ‘   you’re a liar    .    ‘      voice shakes    ,    but her ground is stood    .   ‘   and a coward    .    ‘     she doesn’t flinch at his touch    ,     doesn’t cower at his gaze    .     she’d gotten used to it by now    .     ‘   it’s easier to be alone    .    you want to be alone     .     you’re doing this to make me go away  .    .    .    but i’m not going to   .    ‘    grabs his hand again    ,      rests it over her rosary again    .     ‘    you hear me   ?    i’m not going to    .    i’m not going to abandon you     .    i’m not going to let you ruin yourself     .     i’m not going to let you become the monster you so desperately wish yourself to be   .     &  you know why i’m not letting you do that   ?    because i care   ,    chase   .   i care so much    ,    and you’ve never known what that feels like    ,     so you’re scared of it    .    you’re scared of me   .    you can’t live your life in fear   .      ‘ 

diabulii:

                                   lies scar fragile flesh     ,     staining her in the horrors of his love  ,     a love that burns brightly in daylight but sits coldly in moonbeams   .       she’d barely had him home with her for more than a day      ,      and he prepares to leave again    .   AGAIN   !     how many times would this be  now    ?   heart expands too far     ,      welcoming him home in her embrace too many times  .     would she ever get tired of a boy so cruel    ,    a boy she’d call a man if it wasn’t for his fears that withhold his bloom   ?    one day there wouldn’t be a home to come back to    .     one day    ,     when times were better and life was brighter    ,    she wouldn’t be here anymore  .  perhaps even sooner     ,    she’d marry a man worth marrying    ,     and  there wouldn’t be space in her ever-expanding heart for him anymore .    

‘    you don’t .    .    .     mean it    .    ‘     yet even still    ,     she continues to see through the facade he calls heartlessness    .    his lips are lined in anger but his eyes cry for help     ,      ache in fear and long for love    .       ‘    you don’t mean it    .     i know you don’t   .    you don’t mean it   .   ‘     she approaches    ,    hands cupping his to rest it over her rosary    ,  with the same heavy silver & the same glistening red gem that winks in the center    .    ‘   i love you    .    we’re together for a reason    .     we’re supposed to be together    .   ‘      said the rosary’s spell    ,    unbreakable to anyone else’s hands    ,    even those with gentler thoughts and romantic smiles    .   ‘   you don’t have to be scared anymore   .     you don’t have to run away anymore   . ‘    leans forward   ,    cherry lips peppering gentle kisses to coax him into staying   .    ‘   stop it   .   ‘     and again   .    ‘  stop it  .   ‘    and again and again and again    .    ‘   just stay here   .   ‘

HIATUS. You can find me on @crimeo. I hope to regain my muse for moka soon.

             bubblegum pink,    strawberry manicure combs locks behind pale ear &   legs sway back and forth absentmindedly.   ‘  i’ve always wanted a brother. ‘   hums,   longingly.  ‘  i have three sisters,   so i can understand what that’s like. ‘    /  @sorrxwfilled  , art.

         saccharine sweet,   she pools in springtime. ‘  have you ever thought of quitting ? ‘    smoking,   she means.   she wasn’t going to remind her that it was bad for her,   and that it could potentially kill her. . .  moka’s sure she’s heard all that already,    but she still subtly speaks to it with the way moka shields her nose from second hand.   /  @pulitzerlost

nymphaete:

            brows furrow,     more out of confusion than anything else.   mourning  ?   for what  ?   ‘ don’t tell me it’s for him. ‘     a man weak,    defenseless,  annoying.   how could anyone love a thing so pesky  ?    ‘  men aren’t worth the trouble;   especially a human man,    no less.  ‘

rosekilled:

             crimson petals part,      head tilts back with the tiniest twinge of satisfaction.  blood sharing was,   and forever will be,   intensely erotic for vampires------  deeper than sex,    better than feasting.   it was giving a part of yourself to someone worth deserving,    someone who will wake to be yours forever,   loyal and loving.   what a shame that moka herself cared little for that commitment,    she merely enjoyed the pain of abandonment.   arm pulls away,  hands resting on either side of lydia’s head.    with a sharp twist,  and no warning,   she snaps her neck. 

brings her to her home,    halls far enough to echo and rooms big enough on their own to foster a small family.    she’s rested lydia on the couch,   a smooth red velvet held together with black tinted wood.   moka sits at the end of it,    black claws scaling the craftsmanship of her rosary with care and adoration.   would it be too late to confess to lydia the existence of a girl far lovelier,   the girl closer to inner than any other  ?   probably,   but she doubts it would matter,   seeing as they’d likely never meet.  rosary tucked away in the back pocket of leather jeans,  she tries to waken lydia with the scent of blood,    blood lingering within the confines of a medical plastic bag-------   moka hated the taste,    but she wanted lydia to find her own hunt rather than moka bringing it to her,   so it would have to do for a first meal. 

hi this is a starter call

        ‘ tragic story. ‘   she’s undermining it.  she cared little for god,  and this merely reminds her of her hatred;  why worship a man so cruel,   so unforgiving ?   better yet,   why worship a man at all ? ‘  but why sulk ?   you just look pathetic.  take hold of your new life and make it your own.  sulking is what he wants you to do.  ‘   so,  she mustn’t do it. /  @nymphaete

rosekilled:

                 love  ?   she’d laugh if the notion wasn’t so unfamiliar to her.   instead,  crimson petals part to release something similar to that of a scoff;  doubts,  denies,   refuses.   ‘ you don’t love me. ‘   how could one love a monster so cruel,   a girl so vile  ?    ‘ it is the idea of love that arouses you.   you crave it,   ache for it.   your loneliness is what drives you. ‘   claws whisper across lyida’s skin;  up the curve of her breast,   lining the edge of her jaw,   cupping the sweetness of rosy cheek.   moka’s free arm comes to her own painted lips,   fangs elongating to shred the flesh that rests there.   she brings it close to lydia,  blood’s grotesque scent filling midnight air, lingering copper and nickle.   ‘  take my blood,    and you’ll never have to be lonely again-----     an eternity of us,    forever and always,  lydia. ‘   she gives her the illusion of choice,    but it’s likely she didn’t have one.