you're too young & eager to love

My writing from yesterday that I was unable to post, thanks to a naughty internet connection. Just something short, because I kept getting distracted.

-


Priam’s hair is a dark corona, and her clothing seems mussed and undone. She does not have the slender grace of a new flower. She is neither sleek nor extraordinary. She does not fit flawlessly into this world of endless space skies and eternally blooming stars.

Instead of faith or dedication, she has the viciousness that comes from being unwanted in this world. A hardening of her already thick, scaled skin.

-

Priam sees a stain against the fresh metal of the laboratory. In a moment of existentialism, she thinks she is the stain. Her nails are red like human blood, but it’s just synthetic polish. Her hair is the bruise color of damage, but it’s just hair. Her skin is pale, but not clean perfect white – just the mottled mushroom shade of a dead, pinned cabbage moth. (She hasn’t seen one of those in decades.) She isn’t enough. She knows this room was meant for someone else.

In her heart of hearts, Priam wants lasting, eternal things, places where dust cannot gather.