Story of A Rebel

Did it ever happened to look in the mirror and wonder who is the shadow staring right back at you? Who is that, looking so much alike yourself, mirroring your gestured, the very light in your eyes?

Is it you? Or it's some twin of yours, long lost, but that can still empathize with your heart?

Sincerely, I have no idea of what I'm talking here. I have no idea if it's either a strange truth or just the wild imagination of a girl locked inside herself for too long. What I do know is that now, at the end of the year, I have taken a decision: never again to be ashamed of myself. I am who I am and I am very good actually at being myself!

I might be broken on the inside, but I will not be tamed! I will gather all the pieces and glue them back together - glue myself together until I am whole again. It doesn't matter what they think they know about me or what they think they see. It matter what I know and how I feel. And I not inferior to anyone!

Young and broken - I've been like this ever since I can remember myself. Unwanted, uncalled, disliked, a garbage of a kid. And now... now I'm broke. I'm left with no love on the inside, nothing to give, nothing to fill my heart. I spent it all recklessly, gambled everything on a single event and lost. But I'm no longer scared. It will pass. Love will grow back inside my heart just like the green grass outside my house - even under heavy snow, if you look for it, it's still there, green and fresh, reminding you that there's hope.

I spent my love... so what? I am still wild, still untamed, for no leash is holding me tied to a master. I am free to love and I will love every single being that comes to me, I will be a nice person and a loving, caring friend. I will offer my love to those who want it and I shall never be afraid again.

So, today I'm packing all these boxes, taping them up, writing down years and seconds that seem to be eons away from where I stand right now. I won't lie, it does feel a little empty now that I have everything packed, but all this space on the inside, all these chambers shall be filled with better memories, laughter and nights spent with people that love me back - my cat... or my family, my friends, all the people I got to know more or less.

The mirror shows me a kid who's still afraid of the darkness. And I wish I could tell her that everything is alright, be her friend when all the others will turn their backs on her. But how can I do it when I'm immobilized by this sadness? For I know that she knows how years who passed never come back... just like my spent love. It will grow back, probably more powerful than before, but it will be cautious and mature. It will lose the recklessness of youth.

And once again, I'll be an old soul trapped outside the mirror when all I'll want to do is to hide.

The story of my life is all about how I lost hope...

But I am still untamed. And as long as I can fight, I will raise from my ashes and fight back. 

I will never be defeated! 

I am the Rebel...

Rebel

It wasn't an unheard thing for her to lose her consciousness over that book of hers. With soft fingers hanging from the edges of the hardcovers, her eyes closed, she fell deeper and deeper into the slumber she had avoided for so long. For what was the reason to sleep when dreams were forbidden to her mind?

And yet, she was dreaming. Against all rules, it started from pure white, a crashing whirlpool of pureness that smelled like roses. And suddenly, she was sitting in front of the priest, all dressed in white. It was December 14th and snow could be seen falling outside the windows of the church.

White were her flowers and dress and white was her hair, just like her eyes. She could feel gentle hands holding hers and the husky voice of the priest reading the sermon of what seemed to be a precious day.

No memories were making her smile and yet she knew she was happy. She knew that beyond her incapability of seeing, the man in front of was in love, if not with her poor appearance, then with her humor or maybe, just maybe, with her romantic mind.

No shadows of reality were able to break through the tall walls of the church, so she rested for a while inside there as she could hear her mother's cry, feeling her soon-to-be husband's affection. Just for a little while she wished everything could be real, that everything could one day come true - her, the girl who brought the endless autumn with her eyes become the bride of Winter and never again feel the fear of darkness.

But as wind howled outside her window, she stirred into her sleep, her eyes lazily opening only to embrace the desolation of a life she never wished for. Nothingness caged between four blue walls, with a bed for rest and a water bottle to survive bitter nightmares.

And yet, she smiled. She was not to be defeated that easily. She was to wake up day after day, confronting everything with a smile on her face, making her own way through the darkness she feared so much. She didn't need anyone to hold her hand even though she could feel fear creeping inside, grabbing her bones and squeezing them so that they'd break. She needn't him to be there, a beacon driving away the shadows of her own heart. For she knew he would have never came when called... so better not hold on expectations.

She was alright. She hummed a little song as she packed the book in the red material, hiding it under her bed, in the miserable hole.

She was a Rebel.

Battle Scars

Suddenly, even her body seemed to heavy for her frail bones. Blood pumping through the veins added only more pain to her already throbbing in pain limbs...

Her armor, all pierced and scratched, twisted and marked by the fire she had to run through - it weighted a ton, suffocating like a metal cage suffocates a claustrophobic. It squeezed her flesh, making the blood flow through the arrow holes that marked her back and shoulders, the right leg. But even so, she doesn't feel like taking it off, 'cause somehow, the weight of it, the feeling of being tightly held together was better than standing bare in the middle of nowhere, with the wind howling all around like wolves with sharp teeth digging in her already bruised and torn flesh.

And then, the sun started appearing somewhere at the horizon, throwing beads of light all around her, touching the ground and bouncing back in the air.

Blood. Blood everywhere: in pools and mud, on burned grass and on her own hands, in her long hair and on her lips. Rusty and some even already dry, it marked the place of a terrible battle. A battle with no wounded or dead but her, a mere silhouette that stood proud in the middle of it all and a woman nonetheless.

There was no winner or defeated for it was but a tired attempt to end everything, to put an end to all the struggle.

She was tired. Tired and sad, unsure of her own destiny. And as the sun rose higher on the winter blue sky, her fingers threw down the last match, feeding mighty flames with bloody grass and dirty ground. 

Yes, she stood there, watched everything from the sidelines as her armor sparkled gloriously in the frozen heat. 

Yes, she stood there, watched everything burn down to mere ashes, her long hair moving in the wind as her fingers grasped the leather straps that kept all that iron around her chest and limbs.

Yes, she stood there, no tear leaving her tired eyes - she had no more to cry.

Cold rushed to her side to bite on her heated skin through the thin shirt that covered her from the upper side of the body to mid-high of her thighs. Steeling teeth woke her to reality as a silhouette arose from the ashes.

"You might want to treat those," he spoke, no care in the world, mocking her scarred body.

"B-But I -"

"Set me on fire? Darling, I never felt more alive! You see, it can't be over until you tell me is over."

In a blink of an eye and he was back to her side, inhaling her skin, touching her cheek, crushing all her determination.

"I wish I never looked, I wish I never touched, I wish I'd stop loving you so much," she murmured against his palm.

"The just leave." It was a devil's order. And all armies of Hell arose at his command as fire mirrored in her eyes.

"It will never be over until you tell me is over."

Alpha.

Omega.

The beginning and the end.

A circle full of battle scars that were to never fade away 'cause she had dared go to war with love...

Death of the Humming Bird

Wherever you are, I wanna go too...

Wherever you go, I wanna come along...

Through your eyes I saw the end of this love. I saw everything right from the beginning, but chose to stay blind. I saw everything written on sand, but chose to step on it. I believed I was strong enough to write my own ending, a proper one, a happy one, a distanced one...

In the darkest places, your voice was the only one that could twinkle like a star, bringing me faith, giving me hope.

When the water was high enough to swallow me, your hand was the only one strong enough to pull me out.

When the fire was closing like a ring around me and eyes were watching, you were one of the few that had faith in me that I'd manage through the ring without getting burnt...

In this whole world, I feel the safest next to you...

In this whole world, I feel the safest when you're around...

It was you that held me together when everything was falling apart, when I felt like dying and wanted to let go. And it was you who made me strong enough to realize that the story was getting not such a nice ending...

And now that I've come to this crossroads, I am to think if I am grateful or sad... 'Cause with a heart like mine, all glued back and broken once again, hate might destroy just about everything. And I don't want to hate you. I want to remember that just for a little while, I was beside you, I walked down the same path as you, I protected the place beside you for the one who's meant to be there forever - not me...

And now we got here, it's a one-way road...

And now we got here, what's there left to say?

In this world, there was one single song I now want to sing and make my voice heard in the suffocating crowd: for a little while, I was happy and I will find my happiness once again, away from you...

Du-ri-ru, du-ri-ru, it's like a humming bird,

Du-ri-ru, du-ri-ru, where should I go from here?

Goodbye My Something'n'Something...

I'm but normal: no superpowers, no special talent to put me in the spotlight. I haven't been all around the world, nor have I weird tastes in matter of music or fashion. I'm plain, boring if you want to put it that way. I hold but my soul and nothing else. A pitiful and scarred beating heart it's all I hold with both my hands.

It's all I could have given to you...

I'm but a simple girl: I've got no power to change the ways of the world and I more than surely lead a boring, eventless life after college. I'll probably be raising cats and read in the evening, sleeping with the lights on, 'cause you know that I fear the darkness lurking outside after dusk. I'll be but small and left behind over and over again. All I'll be left with will be my dreams - beautiful, rising and dying dreams.

It's all I wanted to share with you...

I may be putting down words because I'm young and fearless, but it won't bring me any success later on, it won't turn me into a real writer, no. I'll forever be an obscure writer, hiding underground and using metaphors to hide my soul. I'll be small, but a pebble under your vast sky.

And you'll be shining over me, so distant, so bright...

And even if I want to consider myself important I know there's no way you'll remember me over years. It's bound to be forgotten, buried under dust and left to rotten under the grass of the summer that never got to meet us both... 

Day 1 and I was all confused. A hand offered and it got me all sparkling, running, ephemerally moving down in spirals of smiles and heat.

Day 37 and I was the special one. Friend, you came to me like a torch into the darkness that scared me, like warmth during the blizzard when in fact all you were was a thief. You stole something from me and I still must get my hands all bloody to get it back from you.

And we were already halfway through this story I'm putting down while reminiscing...

Day 45 and I cried for the first time. It's not easy to be me: dreams, hopes, thoughts and smiles - all shattered, all cracked, all crumbling. And for the first time my heart wavered...

Day 59 and once again I cried. It's all fuzzy and confusing, the reason behind all those. But I remember how it ended: a broken vase on the floor, a broken heart in my chest and a closed door.

And before I could grab onto you, I realized...

Day something'n'something and it was all gone, slipped through my fingers, escaped and flew away just like a bird that overcame its fear of the liberty awaiting outside the bars of a rusty cage. You went away like a lake running dry under a hideous heating sun...

And before I could grab onto you, I realized: you were never mine to begin with...

I was maybe too young for you, love...

Or maybe too old?