[RainIsABirb]

It's been a while since I screamed.

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There's been a quiet turmoil deep inside,

spreading, twisting, blooming

silencing my mind; eating my body.

For all my life.

I never found the one who did it, and so I've paid his toll since.
The only thing he ever said to me that I still remember:
"You are an empty girl, given purpose."
Thirty-five years later, and I still don't know what that purpose is.

Maybe it was hunting the Coven, when they held strong at their peak.
Maybe it was bearing two children, my beloved Lirael and Julius.
Maybe it was putting down my father, Silence, as his cursed, last wish.
Maybe it doesn't matter what Ervalen intended for me when he hexed me.
Maybe it only matters what I've done with his boon; what impact I've made.

But now I'm stagnant. Retrospection yields no satisfaction.
I don't think I've done anything truly noteworthy as I thought I once had.
I sit and contemplate of all the nothing I've done,
as my mind grows silent, and my body is husked from the inside out.

I don't have a lot of friends. Strange, how loneliness can come
to someone surrounded by family as I am. Husband, children, nieces,
nephews, uncles, aunts, cousins, and yet more; only a few provoke
the silence to a groan. Despite my love for Noctis, he is as dead and
tired as I, hidden behind that mask of his.

Noctis.. My love. My sweet. I'm sorry you've been burdened so.
I'm sorry I haven't been the best for you in return, that I haven't
helped as much as I want to. It's hard, is the lie I tell myself.

Lirael. My little clone. Inheritor of more than just my name.
Will you grow to fall in the same trap as I have, or will you manage
to reject it after all? You have help, is the lie I tell myself to justify
my lack of struggle to care.

Julius. The spitting image of your grandfather. Your passion comes
from a source that eludes me, yet in you is such a drive to protect
that I've come to respect. A drive which I hope matures you, enlightens
you, and saves you all from the growing storm. You'll be enough,
is the lie I tell myself to push responsibility onto another.

Lizbeth.. I'm sorry.

I feel shame, not loving all those beautiful souls who grace my presence.
I feel shame, knowing I will never be a good mom to the two I've given life.
I feel shame, feeling as though I will never connect with another ever again.
I feel shame, ceasing to recognize myself as human in the mirror.
I feel shame, realizing that I won't feel anything from this point on.
Or maybe I haven't for the longest time?

The blessing around my heart, given out of impulsive generosity.
It characterizes her so well, that last fragment left behind with me.
Rebecca was- no, is- a kind soul, and I tried to give back in kind as best I could.
It kept me whole in a way. She brought a warmth to the silence, a stillness
to the gnawing which I'd never known was persisting throughout my life.

She kept me human.

A friend like no other, though maybe I wasn't the only one she gave comfort to.
It was her eternal struggle, to tend so many desperate souls. 
A thousand voices crying out for her aid,
begging, pleading, spreading, arguing, twisting, taking, gnawing, devouring, blooming
until, at her breaking point, she drew away from the world.

only to be betrayed, perhaps with finality





and now she is gone
and now does the silence fade, replaced by a deafening roar;
and now does my flesh scream, wretched darkness writhing more;
and now does my mind burn, does unrighteous fury come to me;
and now does the silence consume all rationality within me;
and now does my blade raise, prepared to strike out at who dared;
and now do I realize, that I'm no different than the thousand hands
reaching for her, my only, truest friend,
to rip her apart
from the outside in

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