❛ ♡ ❜ ˚ 。 · closed starter for @killforyou .
love is cruel . that much she knows — that much does not require any surmise . patriarch determining he is not ready for the responsibilities that a family , a wife who possessed an adoration to the point of willing to deconstruct terra firma itself for him & a saccharine baby girl with rotund apples of cheeks , is cruel ( finding out he has made a new life for himself on first born's fifteenth birthday is , as well . she is not known for hating other corporeal animas , but there is a girl out there who has the felicitous family noelle craves & she cannot help the way she wishes it was her who had been left behind ) cruel is matriarch taking out the leftover ire from husband's abandonment on adolescent who returns home late one night , gripping tow – headed blonde tresses , once delicate ( had mother ever been delicate with daughter ? had noelle always received this treatment ? she could not tell , proceedings blurring into convoluted chaos ) palm striking countenance so harsh , vats of concealer is applied when aurora breaks . cruel is this moment , football stadium fluorescents & waxing crescent moon blending as one , fabricating dyad even when they do not wish to be , articulation transitioning from somber to vehemence rather instantaneously . cruel is individual herself — had been declared inadequate since the day she exited her primordial pool , but that does not quell the eroded cardiomyctye , nor does it intercept an already calloused zephyr becoming suspended within pulmonary cavity , the need to singe milky epidermis , a tradition individual had adopted when the melancholy was too much for lithe framework too carry on shoulders . doleful hues broadening in bewilderment , congenitally roseate petals are parted , encephalon racing with varying notions — what did i do ? what could i have done differently ? what would make him stay ? what did i do ? ❛ you — i wouldn't even be that upset if you had waited ! why did you have to tell me this now ? ❜ it's a prevarication , she knows that it is — but when words do not descend from other's brims , saline droplets begin to accumulate within waterline . cranium bobbing from left to right , metacarpus ascending to halt any further damage . ❛ good luck on your game . ❜ timbre is monotone , appendages opting to maneuver around sports field , despondency cutting through bones as linoleum aperture displays a wash room that is void of any essence , save for femme & meilleur ami . phalanges gripping at porcelain , a whimper giving way to a sob .
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