I
❁ O N E ❁
• • •
° Fluerie °
My favourite book in my father's library were the papers covered with his blood. My bright red hair fell on my face and the cold tile left a trace on my lower thighs. My mother was singing a song while she was basked in liquor. Maybe, what she called a memory of my father. She would steal a glance at me and smile at me, a curve spreading on her lips saturated in an unfelt sorrow.
My father's library was filled with bottles of some pills. These pills were what he called his mistakes which had drenched in a pain that he thought was better for him. His mistakes, as he had defined, were a seashore of green and black and of the love that my mother's braid and bright eyes were woven with. Whenever, the sea dried up because his ink bottles broke, it would reveal languished skeletons, rotten papers and a Fluerie that no one recognised.
"Baby, listen." My mom said, her skin suddenly covered in a rusted silver that was supposed to be gold.
"Mother, are you - " I opened my mouth to speak but my mom hushed me, pointing towards a dark corner, as dark as the colour of an old bruise.
She said, she saw my father there, with a cigarette in between his pale fingers and a broken ashtray fallen near his feet. She said, she saw his eyes dripping of blue ink; not tears and there were scars on his lips from his coffin. I was scared, wondering why I couldn't see him. I only saw the grief my mother had spilled everywhere and like a disease, it had ruptured the books, the staircase, the cookies, the photos, the house. But, I said nothing, afraid that I might cry or worse make my mother cry.
"Fluerie, you see that gun over there?" she whispered, resting her head on my shoulder.
"Yes, mother." I choked out as I felt my mother's liquor drip down from her mouth onto my shoulder.
She looked at me, her eyes widened; blue lines covering the white oasis. She was mumbling something and suddenly picked me up, keeping me in her embrace. Something oddly scary settled in me, far away from my heart, inside my veins.
"Do you know what that gun did?"
"No, mother."
Yes, I knew.
She said nothing.
"But, I loved my father." I said.
She smiled and kissed my forehead, planting a rose on my skin.
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
