It was a slow and delicate falling, one where she got tangled in the pure prettiness of the world, and slowly escaped into the shifting iridescence in the back of her irises. They say she fell into a fairytale. Her dainty body stumbling across the lines and clambering around the illustrations. They say that the mirrors said it all, as camera flashes made her beauty bright. Her eyes bold. The colours of her were made more vibrant, her old demeanour stripped and replaced with paper. Pen making scratch marks as she screamed. Beauty is pain. And pain is beauty they spat at her face. She sits on toadstools, and struggles for breath. It was a slow and delicate falling, into a place where she is lost and never found. Where you can search those bold and bright eyes to find deep and black skies. But don’t look too close. For you will see things that your mind was hushed away from. Spectrums of pain and dripping blood. Scars and accidental scrapes, bruises and far too skinny arms. Through the skin you can see bones. Pretty things that leak of toxic. People who lick it up. Mad people with mad words that tumble out of a mad mouth. We are all crazy. And so is she… It was a slow and delicate falling, One where she got tangled in the pure prettiness of the world, and slowly escaped into the shifting iridescence in the back of her irises. They say she fell into a fairytale.
And now she’s left wondering in wonderland.
Running out of oxygen.
Thank you so much for reading. This is another one I really really loved writing, I hope you enjoyed reading.
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