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No, I do not love thee,
but believe that I love you.
She flicks her bangs back behind her ear, a simple gesture she's done thousands of eternities before, countless times that day alone. But this moment is different. Her hand trembles and her knees are wobbly as she forces herself to stay standing. She's still shaking as she pours the milk into the glass; the cold, white drink providing a cool reassurance she's unsure she'll ever feel again. It doesn't matter anymore whether she ever thought the glass was half full. It's half empty. If the liquid fills and sloshes over the top, it won't make a difference. It will always be half empty.
Her stomach is in knots, and her knees refuse to stay still. Her mouth is so dry and God, she is so thirsty. But this is what her body says, not what her mind is stamping across the surface of her heart. She lets the people around her jostle her bones, throw her against the wall, trip her down the stairs. She hasn't ate in hours and hours because she knows it will not stay down. And then it's one more pill. And one more. And another.
Their words mean nothing anymore. Once upon a time they had sliced her open and ripped out unbearable truths. But the damage has already been done and she's on the brink of becoming invincible. It's not true invincibility, it's the broken type that's made after she's stood at the edge of those fifteen floors. She's skittish at the sight of her own shadow, her own reflection, every deep, unsettling breath she takes. The monsters are coming alive, lurking in the corners and waiting to pounce.
Tears haven't left her eyes in months. A sob hasn't escaped her throat for longer than her mind can remember. She's hollow inside, drifting along stale air, fading to the shade of translucent. Her knees never stop shaking, turning into the only reliable part of her life. The dark circles underlining those dry eyes color in solid. Her heart could skip a beat and she wouldn't even notice.
She lives inside her head, floating on as a dreamer, not bothering to look behind her, ignoring the future. Her laughs used to arouse smiles; now that echoing sound is cold and high. It tells private jokes no one understands. Her hands fumble as they unscrew each light bulb in the sky, casting the world opaque. She can no longer see her shadow, her reflection, her breath as it clouds the frigid air. But she can still hear it. She can still feel it. Despite living upside down, she'll never be numb. She will always feel love. And that's what breaks her and makes her go mad.
**Lyrics taken from "Is a Hope (Drinking Alone)" by Laura Marling.
but believe that I love you.
She flicks her bangs back behind her ear, a simple gesture she's done thousands of eternities before, countless times that day alone. But this moment is different. Her hand trembles and her knees are wobbly as she forces herself to stay standing. She's still shaking as she pours the milk into the glass; the cold, white drink providing a cool reassurance she's unsure she'll ever feel again. It doesn't matter anymore whether she ever thought the glass was half full. It's half empty. If the liquid fills and sloshes over the top, it won't make a difference. It will always be half empty.
Her stomach is in knots, and her knees refuse to stay still. Her mouth is so dry and God, she is so thirsty. But this is what her body says, not what her mind is stamping across the surface of her heart. She lets the people around her jostle her bones, throw her against the wall, trip her down the stairs. She hasn't ate in hours and hours because she knows it will not stay down. And then it's one more pill. And one more. And another.
Their words mean nothing anymore. Once upon a time they had sliced her open and ripped out unbearable truths. But the damage has already been done and she's on the brink of becoming invincible. It's not true invincibility, it's the broken type that's made after she's stood at the edge of those fifteen floors. She's skittish at the sight of her own shadow, her own reflection, every deep, unsettling breath she takes. The monsters are coming alive, lurking in the corners and waiting to pounce.
Tears haven't left her eyes in months. A sob hasn't escaped her throat for longer than her mind can remember. She's hollow inside, drifting along stale air, fading to the shade of translucent. Her knees never stop shaking, turning into the only reliable part of her life. The dark circles underlining those dry eyes color in solid. Her heart could skip a beat and she wouldn't even notice.
She lives inside her head, floating on as a dreamer, not bothering to look behind her, ignoring the future. Her laughs used to arouse smiles; now that echoing sound is cold and high. It tells private jokes no one understands. Her hands fumble as they unscrew each light bulb in the sky, casting the world opaque. She can no longer see her shadow, her reflection, her breath as it clouds the frigid air. But she can still hear it. She can still feel it. Despite living upside down, she'll never be numb. She will always feel love. And that's what breaks her and makes her go mad.
**Lyrics taken from "Is a Hope (Drinking Alone)" by Laura Marling.
