“Crack the glowsticks in your halo. Burn so beautiful that if the sun ever looked at you he’d go blind.”
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Lilith: Emeline….can you please stop voicing Sol like an angry mobster
Emeline: Never
“You take one pretty step and feel like you’re pouring bubbles into your own bloodbath. You don’t want a soft death. You want a hard life that is your life.”
If your beauty makes them uncomfortable, it is because they have never been taught how to comprehend it.
Nikita Gill
“Accept the fact that things will not be okay for a little while longer. Then, fight like hell.”
— A girl who became her own hero
“The most dangerous girl is one that knows her own mind well, she carries too much deadly in her bones to be a distressed damsel, this is a girl who distresses demons instead.”
— Nikita Gill
Spite
You bastard doll maker
How long did you think you could primp and pose me on the edge before I fell?
How long did you think you could display me like a trophy on the shelf? A tribute to your efforts rather than my own. Left all alone when I’m not serving my function.
How long did you think you could stave off my shattering?
Whatever you thought, you were wrong.
I was chipped before I cracked. You handled me too roughly. Threw me down, tore my seams, scuffed my paint, and wondered why I wasn’t your perfect doll.
My porcelain face is fractured. My China arms split and shaking in their sockets. My head lolls like a batty bobblehead from where you tried to split the seam.
I waited so long for you to notice the wreckage, to toss me out, but you couldn’t be spared the effort, and so I lingered.
A new crafter found me. They sealed my cracks. Tugged together my seems. Tightened my head and smiled. I am not more beautiful for my fixing. I am not some perfect poetic recovery.
My edges are still ragged. I am the mismatched quilt of other’s efforts. My stitches don’t fade into the fabric, you can clearly see what holds me together. I am not more perfect for my breaking but I am stronger.
I see your snarl as you see what time has done to your doll. How revolting my new self must be to you.
Let that be a warning to you against your horsing or trophies
Let your collection retch, riot, and demand retribution
And let my every happiness be your greatest disappointment
rolling 1: you can’t do it and it horribly backfires somehow
rolling under 10: you can’t really do it and there could be consequences
rolling over 10: you probably can do it, just not the way you imagined
rolling 20: you can do it
getting anything over 20: not only can you do it, you also perform an extra backflip, a pirouette, and perfect split, all while playing paganini’s caprice no. 24 on a violin