Reliquary

Sep 23, 2004

whispers in the dark

The Dove.

She had taken time tonight to watch the stars as they faded behind the beginning mist that formed. It wasn't as if she hadn't thought about him before. As much as she would like to think she had moved on, and maybe, just maybe she had moved on... a part of her still missed him. Memories had come and gone, some had deteriated into little more than a snippet in her mind, but others stuck out like a soar thumb in the back of her head. She knew the possibility of /them/ could never be again, but it made her smile to remember how many times they were convinced they could make it work. It was a shame, she thought, they could still not meet and sweep eachother off their feet with musing words, and soft caresses. She never did regret any of the time she had spent with him, most in their winter splendor, through all the arguments that sufficed, they both were able to release themselves from this dream they both saught to make so true. And yet, as much as she thought this was the best for the both of them, she couldn't help but think of how much she really did miss him. He was her dove once.

The Dark Saint.

He was someone she remembered very well. He was still quite fresh in her memory, even if he had remained scarce for what seemed too long now. She didn't think about him everyday as she had before, now he was another distant memory caught up in the stars. Yet somehow her heart refrained from searching for him, afraid she would become vulnerable to the past that overwhelmed them. She could still taste him, simply from the fact they were connected in a way she could not be connected with anyone else. Blood was a strong hold. Immortality even further yet. He had never disappointed her - once, perhaps, but it was not he who she blamed. They had been through many rough times, aiding eachother, helping eachother deal with losses and gains. Another disappearance. She really did miss him too.

The Fallen Angel.

The only one that hadn't disappeared. She still fears he will. The way each individual has from her existance. However, she trusts him, the nights they have shared, the... love they held for eachother. Even as she sat on her steps, planning out continuous places to travel, he was always on her mind. He was beautiful, and was able to reopen the stitched metaphor that was her heart, able to fold around another once more. She remembered in her mind, she promised she would try her hardest on this one. This one she was going to hold onto. Grasp, ensnare, and trap. She was happy, even while missing some, she was happy. Content to be her. Content to be with somone. That someone was him.

Posted at 02:24 pm by chancel
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Jul 29, 2004

erase the night

may god forgive me

I am redoing my apartment once again. The familiarity of its colors weren't so familiar anymore, and I needed to change it. The ever intoxicating aroma of paint is staining my house once more, it is rather comforting, and reminds me of Sin. I didn't think I would be able to achieve this much, in this short of time. Painting, and remodeling. I haven't been out too much, I have mostly stuck to home, trying to convince myself that I can play my guitar without making anyone, or myself, cringe. I haven't been to lonely being by myself, though I find myself drinking too much wine, and smoking, ah, dear. I couldn't part with my ol' leather couch, so that is still here, however, all my other furniture has been changed. Though still all bronze leather, simply new. The fresh smell is daunting.

No Name, yes, dear No Name is growing so fast, she is such a fiesty thing, so protective, over protective -- but god bless her.

I received a call from Max yesturday, he had invited me over to his house, to which I was more than willing to oblige too. I needed to see someone familiar. We spoke of foreign places, how we both had been, ate for a candlelit dinner(which should've warned me what was going to be coming), and took his boat out for a sail. However, it went much too far, and god damn me for not stopping him. I couldn't, I couldn't deny those haughty blue eyes -- I think I gave in more because I just wanted to feel the touch of a man again, someone, someone I trust, but not because i really /wanted/ him. I couldn't say no to him. I feel horrid, and I don't even know why. All I could do was think, think of Angelus... and yet I still could not stop myself? I do not know why I did it. Perhaps it was the several glasses of expensive wine, or maybe it was the thick cinnamon aroma that embraced the silk sheets of his bed. I have been avoiding seeing him again, I don't want anything to happen, I don't want to give myself to someone again I don't want to give myself too. I don't love him. I don't want him. Not, to that extent. I feel like such a sinner. Damn a man's charm. They are so deceiving. I have to set a line for him, Max, let him know that I can't be with him. I don't want to be with him. That is the truth. He doesn't deserve to be left thinking he'd have a chance to spend his affections with me, because he won't. Not ever again. I really just need to see someone, someone I know or don't know, that can simply distract me from the need to be wanted.

I miss him though, not Max, but I don't even know what he thinks of me anymore. I need to follow my instincts, and my instincts are telling me to tell him how I feel; completely and utterly. What I want us to be, how far I want us to go.

i feel like a sinner

Posted at 12:48 am by chancel
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Jul 17, 2004

evolved: unevolved

Existance: Where has it gone?

Where have I been?

What have I been doing?

Why have I not written in these pages for so long?

I can't even answer that question myself. I have faded into the background of existance. I weave my way through city streets, nothing more than another stanger amidst the crowd. What has happened to me? Have I let myself drift so far as to not even feel? I feel as if I have. I woke up in a bed that was not mine, the impression of my body there still seeming so vivid and clear, yet somehow I became a blurry version of myself. Where do I go? What do I do? I am at a loss of what to feel right now. A wilted entity; a lament daffodil. I have seen no one that I use to see, they have been blind to my sight and senses for what seems so long now. Too long now. I had a dream, I swear it was a dream. Having run into the embrace of a significant man (i miss him); Sinjin. However, it was so brief, so fleeting. It had to be a dream? What has come of Angelus right now, my dear, dear, Angelus. Should I go see him, show up on his doorstep like I have done before? Will he be there? What will I say? How is he? I miss him.

I miss myself.

Nostalgic. Nostalgic. Nothing more than Nostalgic.

Posted at 10:09 pm by chancel
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Apr 15, 2004

drown in me

like mascara, we weep

Rose-bruised lips. Such pretty lips. A crease(that smile) that outlit every star in the sky -- gracing dove woven features with delectable wanton. Delicate. A chaste sweeping of piano key knuckles across a flushed cheekbone, soft as budding blossoms. Seas. Such deep seas. Framed by wisps, wisps of densely spun lashes. Such long lashes. Vanishing butterfly kisses stalking periodic blinks, reappearing and disappearing in moments of natural magic. Genteel violin strings. Audible imagery of ravens feathers, sprawled, sprawled 'gainst buttermilk pillows and sheets. Such warm sheets. Tangled body, chaste and untouched, silk sewn with a tepid breath of tousled fabric. Halcyon oxygen grazing pallid flesh, satin sweeping arches of skin and sculpt. Such heavenly sculpt. Chimera air, air that simmered and held peace to its bosom, speaking volumes of content rest. Such needed rest.

like lipstick, we fade

As mornings and evenings pass, I find myself secluding my body from the city's confinements. Concrete and pavement no longer able to soothe, but instead, disdain my heart with erratic accuracy. The birth of Spring has finally wove its nimble embrace about this side of the earth, bringing forth blossoms and colours to which no season can compare. Rain. Rain follows in heavy persuit, littering the fledgling greens with sun reflective drops. It's beautiful, ethereal in the country setting. I still see the city lights as they light up the evening sky from not too far a distance. Dotting the night with their sharp and aweing imagery every moment midnight draws forth. I often will sit on my freshly painted porch steps, watching the stars and the city lights combine as one vast landscape, within the suns fleeing sphere. The scents here are fresh, new, and reborn. A different sense of intoxication than the city's ever present, and dire air. Scents of blooming petals polish the air, moist grass intertwining, and still, paint lingers within the mixture from a paintbrush and its can that I have yet to pick up from the porch floor. I am alone here. Thoughtful. Though I yearn for another's presence, I am brooding, unable to find the presence at which I wish to share this forgotten euphoria. I can only hear my breath, and the chatter of spring insects that have finally made way into the sprouting grasses, a faint siren now and then stains the air with its cry. However, distant it is. I know I am coming to grow, I want to find myself. Dig up from the past me, the tears of pain and joy, and find me. I am not sure what it is I hope to find, to find in me, around me. My heart expresses, but delays its discontent for my mind's sake only. Words, words of uncertainty escape me. I seek a new freedom. A freedom from myself, into the world. A freedom from the world, into myself.

like blush, we express

Posted at 08:38 pm by chancel
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