Every mirror reveals the darkness we hide within ourselves, and sometimes it happens in places we least expect it. And for Gabriel Jackson, that meant hiding underneath a mask of sorrow and loneliness to obtain a respectable reputation—possibly encouraging himself to germinate without proper nourishment and care.
Though it took him long enough to realize the detriment of his perfectionist tendencies and utopian views—he figured relishing, in the breeze of finding someone who resembled his other half, seeing the world from his eyes. Like an image in reverse, his fantasies distorted into the realms of existence—her.
Psalm Horton was him in every way imaginable—from passion, stamina, perfection, and stubbornness. She desperately wanted to explore herself in plethoras of fashions and embrace the calm unaccompanied by the storms. It meant one night of understanding one another's mental, emotional, physical, and psychological state.
Could it be any harm in getting high to melodic interactions? That wasn't the case with her until she and Gabriel stumbled upon each other at the right place at the wrong time. It was as if they were a secret message they had to decode before the time bomb exploded into ashes.
Playing with fire required the other party to be willing to burn as a sacrificial offering—or whatever sprouted and died inside.
Although every moment took a turn for the better and worst—they dared to let go no matter what strings attached; your worst enemy always holds the torch in the darkest valleys. Death follows all periods of life, even the ones that seemed dead long ago. You pay the price of rebirth, control, jealousy, and rage—each stage is a prestige away from surpassing the next level of insanity.
Such a simple encounter couldn't be more insane than the last, or could it?
(Another story I lost faith in, sadly.)
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✓ | frozen
PoetryHere's a collection of poems and drafts that are frozen within my heart.
