the domain of holy girls

{[ † ]}

please don't say
those cursed words yet


i have recently taken a more active interest
in writing and have decided to attempt the
100 drabbles challenge once more. i hope that
this attempt will be more successful than my
last, which, you can see from the first post, was
started some time ago and never completed.
topics will be provided daily (if possible) by
my good friend, genome.


"love" is light like feathers

a flower-stealer's sweet hesitation


please do not post here. if you wish to give
commentary, praise, critique, ecouragement,
or advice, PM me.


you may touch me if you're confident
that you will reach to the depths of my profound chest

the purity adorned by
a cracked glass case is


oo1. the crunch of fresh snow
monday: september o7 2oo9
monday: september o7 2oo9

oo2. a warmly lit lantern
tuesday: september o8, 2oo9
??? : ???

oo3. jealousy or lost hope
wednesday: september o9, 2oo9
wednesday: september o9, 2oo9

oo4. mask
thursday: september 1o, 2oo9
??? : ???

oo5. clutter
??? : ???
??? : ???

oo6. blind devotion
sunday: january 24, 2o1o


the dying heart of angels

please don't say
those cursed words anymore

oo6. blind devotion
sunday: january 24, 2o1o


"love" is heavy like chains

the heartbeats of a hunter who plucks nectar
you may run away with me


thank you

to genome: for her support
and her creativity and her
beautiful writing, which
inspires me

and her gentle prodding
which keeps me writing


if you have the courage to shoot
through the bottom of my heart

please make it so that if I caught you


†††


i wouldn't ever let you escape

oo1. the crunch of fresh snow
monday: september o7 2oo9

The surface of my world has been trodden upon by the generations before me.
The ground is used, dense with blood and tears, triumph and love. If I was not
human, a handful of earth could taint me with a hundred human happinesses,
then empty me again with hopelessness and despair. But this snow before me is
different, dead and pure. I step. The resulting crunch is clean. It is not silenced
by previous footfalls. And everything listens, because this sound- my sound- is
new. Standing there, I contemplate this, observing empty horizen. And suddenly
shiver. I feel very alone.

oo2. a warmly lit lantern
tuesday: september o8, 2oo9 [late]

I kneel before a river with a white paper lantern held lovingly in my hands. I hold
the dome over the water for a moment, observing the light within. Satisfied, I
release it to join its friends. They gather together for a moment, pausing to form
a patch of orange warmth in the trembling gray waters before the current calls
them away. I watch as they join the glowing white stones jutting from the water's
surface, watch as the voices begin to call. Although the stones remain forever
bright and cold, my 1000 lanterns begin to fade with each "I wish...."

oo3. lost hope
wednesday: september o9, 2oo9

There is a room somewhere in this world. It is a beautiful place. A place so
hauntingly melancholy that it can be nothing but beautiful. But it is a terrible
beauty. There are auras that float there, filling those who touch them with loss
that burns as if they had never lost before. There are puddles of salty water, and
stains where they once were. In here, I wait as the dust settles, as the days pass.
People are forever losing things you see, and its my job to wait for them. I have
been waiting for so, so long...

oo4. mask
thursday: september 1o, 2oo9 [late]

There is something disturbing about the apathy of a masquerade, something frightening
about its blank lack of emotion. It stares so unblinkingly, yet the outline of its eyes whisper
beautiful lies that call with the beckoning murmur of a seductress. It is demeaning to gaze,
awestruck by the perfectly painted lips of a mask. This is because masks, with the same
arrogance as a human that has everything and nothing at all, smile. Humans are afraid of
masks. But at the same time, humans embrace their existence. Because if one doesn't know,
one can imagine something meek under a mask.

oo5. clutter
??? : ??? [late]

Although I have remained dear to him through these passing years, I realize now
that he has shown me all the effort he wishes to put into loving me. Satisfied
with what has been established with me, he has shelved me away in his heart. In
a neat little row between his childhood memories and the favorite songs he sang
for me, I sit gathering dust. I sigh. It may seem merciful to keep all things one
loves by their side, but in this crowd, I am nothing more than meaningless clutter.
It would've be kinder to throw me away.