I don't know if I'll actually write any poems- but on a whim I decided to join the festivities! Napo is so nostalgic and people's threads always inspire me and pull me in!! I'll be happy if I write a poem or two c:
I wrote something!!! Yay! XD I was starting to wonder if I would write anything for NaPo! I haven't written in a while, and it kinda ended up being a mixture of poetry and prose- leaning on the prose side, but I'm still happy I wrote it!
Content Warning: This is a tad gory. Heavy grief. (all fictional, but still)
Spoiler! :
Her hands were stiff as glass, tight fists around the basket handle. The woods were not kind to strangers whose delicate skin required layers of wools and feathers borrowed or stolen from creatures they caged.
A warm flicker from a single candle beckoned her to grandmother's cottage. Her heart quickened- she'd made it. She knocked thrice and entered leaving her worries outside with a heavy sigh. But her relief was too soon, as a scent of must laid like mist in the air.
"You're too late." Came the voice, a growl from the damp cave that once was her grandmothers kitchen.
"No," she whispered, "I brought your nettles- I'm right here, please don't-" he cut her off as she sunk to the floor.
"You're too late." He repeated, stepping out of the shadows. His coat gleaming with a thick liquid in the flame's light. "I'm reluctant to say your grandmother tasted of beetroot and rain."
His eyes were hollow.
"You'll still marry me, won't you?" he whispered, desperation suddenly drowning his features. "Scarlett, I must have a bride." A brief glimpse of the boy he used to be flashed across his face.
She swallowed, wondering which tragedy would consume her first; this grief that was endless- a pit inside her that could sink mountains; the woods if she ran, frost corrupting her bones; or the wolf who stood before her, satiated only temporarily from a hunger that inhaled everyone she ever loved.
Very happy to have you for NaPo this year, Holysocks!! :3
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