Oct. 28th, 2009

garnigal: (Default)
She disguises herself.

Ruffles and pink, heels and mascara to blend into the daylight, blend into the crowd. Talks of boys and the future, dreams and hopes to match the bubbly voices and cheerful giggles.

Black and blades, boots and lipstick to slide into the shadows, slide into the silence. Focuses on the moment and the blood, the hunt and hopes to keep the dark from slipping its shackles.

But the disguise is slipping. She snaps and snarls. Pink gathers dust while black takes over.

She’s becoming a blade, bitter and sharp – and she has no idea how to stop.

June 2025

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