I miss you like a little kid

Pretty

She felt incomplete.

She felt torn apart, and ruined and destroyed and nothing.

There was something missing inside of her.

Something that had been missing for a long time, now.

It had started with a kiss.

A soft gentle kiss that had her humming and her ears twitching and her lips smiling and her stomach warm.

Blue on pink like that stupid TV Girl band but it was better. It was blue and pink against the whole world. And all pink needed was blue.

But blue didn't need pink anymore, now that he had gotten green and purple and fuchsia and whatever the fuck John Dory was.

Blue didn't need pink anymore.

But pink needed blue now more than ever.

She didn't have anyone left except him.

And she missed him so goddamn much it burned her insides, scarring her soul and then she was hollow and nothing, just a shell of what she once was, a shell containing all the burning need and want that forces itself out.

She wanted him to hold her.

To never let her go.

Don't let me go Branch, please.

Please keep me.

Her hair had grown longer.

It had dulled.

She had dulled.

And she hated it.

The moss was soft beneath her tired body, and her fingers grazed it softly.

She had no strength to tie up her hair today, and so it lay loose in gentle curls around her face and shoulders, piled on the rocks.

The stars above her smiled and whispered, caressing her with their songs, bidding her to come up and join them in the sky.

I can't, she had told them. My moon is down here on earth with me.

What would the ocean do without its moon?

Like a tide, he pulled her in close.

Like the sea, he pushed her away.

Like the tide, she pulled him in close.

And like the sea, she pushed herself away.

His family is here, she told herself. His family is here.

So what if you miss him?

His family is here. Support him.

She was a vessel. A vessel made to hold all the anger that begged to tear her apart. Swallow her whole. Rip her to shreds, until she is as vulnerable on the outside as she is on the inside.

She will bite.

And she will protect the forbidden tarnished sanctuary that holds all the hopes that haven't been destroyed.

Lay waste to her body. Crack open her brain and marvel at all the things she was too scared to say, too scared to do, all the feelings that never made their way out.

She was made of all the anger and fury that screams and shrieks and yells for itself to wrench out.

But Poppy was a peaceful soul.

And she didn't get angry.

When she looked into the mirror, she wanted to cry.

Once she had loved her beautiful pink hair.

Once she had loved the sparkle in her eyes.

Once she had loved the softness of her skin, the happiness in her smile, the crinkle of her nose.

Now she was tired.

And the beauty was washed out, leaving behind something else.

Something she didn't like, nor love.

Why was the abandonment so familiar? Why was it so...so-...

So...

Comforting.

The comforting fact that it was impossible to love her. That everyone who comes are just there to use you, use your smiles and your jokes and your laughter just to steal it away and leave you for someone else. Someone better.

Poppy had made peace with it once.

But now the raging monster inside of her roared to the image of Branch in her mind.

Love me, it said. Love me.

Don't let me go so soon.

The yellow of her dress was too tight.

She had thought it pretty once, but Branch hadn't looked at her at all.

Maybe she was just being stupid.

She couldn't see the stars through the rumbling dark clouds in the sky.

The rain pattered into her eyes, soaked into her hair, allowing growing vines to curl their way into the dull pink, making it more green than whatever colour she was now.

The roots of the trees held her nimble hands, allowing something to fill the emptiness inside of her, even if it was just for a little while.

The riverbed tickled her feet. She was so close, her back on the ground, arms spread out like an angel.

She felt something clog up inside her chest and she sighed.

When Branch found her in that little spot of hers, where the willow trees swayed in your face and the stars were brightest, it was raining.

He had been looking for her for a while, after she had silently left the small party he had gathered, starring his family. Her hair had been braided down the gorgeous yellow dress she had on. Branch felt speechless. Unfortunately, his family had whisked him away before he could say anything and she had been missing ever since.

When he found her, she was lying on the ground, her yellow dress now soaked and dirty from the soil and rain, her hair out and free tumbling over the roots of the trees and her shoulders and face.

He knew not to say anything when she was like this.

Branch just layed down beside her, arms crossed over his chest, looking up at the clouds and ignoring the rain that fell into his eyes.

She was crying beside him, he knew.

But he didn't know what to do.

"Branch?"

Her voice was rasped and broke in the middle. It was soft and weary and exhausted.

It was sad and it tore apart something inside of Branch.

She was already looking at him when he turned his head.

"Do you think I'm pretty?"

Her eyes were watery and there were huge dark bags under them. Her dull pink hair had pieces of twigs and leaves stuck in it, and it wilted over her drawn out face. The yellow dress she had on now had patches of brown on it, and her hands were shaking.

Branch reached his hands out and took her in his arms, bringing her as close as he could until he could rest his nose on the top of her head.

She smelled like the rain.

"The prettiest girl in the world," he whispered to her.