A word of explanation:
I am your dragonfly, hovering impossibly close to the water, floating effortlessly above the thick, waxy petals of water lilies: I am the flash of jewel-bright colors that zip through your fingers as you attempt to catch me and make me yours, though the reason you want to posses me is hard for you to articulate. I connect to nothing but air. I am iridescent and nameless as the water I skim, breathtaking as the most exotic butterfly and ten times as brief.
I am your innocent, known only to you by the song that floats over the misty, forested hills. I am wide eyes, blue as a robin’s egg, and I am soft curls that are twirled absently around a long, pale finger. I laugh sunshine and improvise whirling dances that make the trees bend down to brush the crown of my head with their leaves. I dream of princes with enchanted swords, and faraway lands where I am missed; then I sing my wishes to the wind, which hums my tale into the ears of travelers.
I am your knight, crashing through the underbrush to save you from a creeping, unspeakable evil, my armor dull with rust—or something else—in splotches, my sword flashing fiercely as I raise my shield and let out a battle cry that sounds more like a clap of thunder. The shadows spin and shriek, my sword whistles and hacks. Then you are thanking me shakily, and I nod. How can I tell you that I was not coming to save you, not until the last second, when I heard the screams. I do not seek out trouble. I do not know what I seek, and this infuriates me, a quiet fury that I conduct like a string of shining copper into the bodies of my foes.
I am your Faerie Queen, disquieting until you breathe me in, and then it’s far too late. Layered enchantments, each one thin and soft as a shadow, and eyes that change color with sunlight conspire to hide my nature. I want to ask you riddles, test you, and play with the contents of your skull like a glistening new toy. Gazing up into my face, dazzled by brilliance, you cannot see that the eyes of a cat looking at a mouse peer down at you, filled with languid interest that will disappear the instant the game becomes boring. I make the world shimmer where I touch it, but torn souls and broken hearts stain the ground once I have passed.
Now tell me this: if everything I’ve said is true as summer and solid as stone,
who am I?
~ heart
Shh... The voices are speaking again!
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Hi, haven't seen or heard from you in a while. I have a lack of internet again, so I'm only on every so often.
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Thank you!