The Goddess of the Lovers
I tend to ride blind into the battle. I tend to follow my heart. I tend to stop fast in my tracks. Come to a halt when my being is wounded without flesh cuts. I have made a promise to myself, by now, a million times. On a level that we can both meet, equal footing. Caring for caring. I have taken a vow to honour myself. And yet. I come to the same wall once and again.
What was different this time? Something that I never felt before. At ease. A complete trust into my sisters, the Goddess of Time, the Goddess of Chance. The Goddess of Fate. But tell me now, did I listen to my own self? The Goddess of Care and Love? How can someone else rule those two feelings as powerfully as I do? The monarch and creator of them?
How can anyone possess my emotion as much as it rules me? I do not think they can. No one feels as I do. In their hearts, it is but an echo of love and a splinter of care. Fleeting so fast that I am left once again. Alone. On my own. Used and abused.
I ride Qetesh in a world that is white. Ashes fall like snow and my golden hair gets covered in the flakes. We are together, my mare and I, in a world that is just white, the trees are covered, the planet empty and quiet. It would be eery if I was not wounded by putting a blindfold on myself. Without a drop of blood, I have been unsighted and I deal with the consequences now.
We walk slowly and softly. A nuclear wasteland in my path. But it only extinguished the life of your kind. The one that I ripped my bleeding heart out for. The weights have taken permanent residence on what is left in my chest. What good did I do for Romeo and Juliet? What benefit did the star crossed lovers achieve from my cupids arrows? None. They all ended in misery. Cynical and cold. Alone and lonely. With no one to care for those shattered souls.
Walls. It is all that I create. They build up and around and they kill me slowly in your heart. No more can you care for another. No more are you willing to take a leap of fate. No more are you able to feel what you did. No more can you possibly care about another trembling heart that needs comfort. All of it is my own fault. I am the goddess most powerful. I am the goddess most weak. What can desire do when you are not open to fate, when you have been destroyed already a million times? Break you. Break me.
My eyes are soft with tears. They shatter at my feet and against the bare back of Qetesh. They are white as milk, they are as heavy as my conscience. I no longer give a chance. I long have felt just regrets. This nuclear wasteland is but one more of them. Bare and full of my tears shed.
I am the crisp and even the life that is left is but a mirror of what once was. The cherry trees bloom white but all they bring is death and the taste of ashes in my mouth. A bunny passes over the path. Small, vulnerable. Fertility gone. Alone. Abandoned. White as snow but hot as coal. You were not able to care so I burst into a thousand flowers of death.
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