shine your [sunlight] upon me; brik

[florentine, d4b ❁]

Ivy Soren

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I remember those days when it snowed, and I could pretend that the icy frost was what was making my heart so cold. But then the sun shone upon the frost and it trickled away like tears pouring from the eyes of a child. It is only now, with that sun upon me, that people realise the ice is inside of me, too. Inside of me, in a place where the sun never shines and the tears never dry. Why is it that people love the summer? Everything breathes in the summer, and it is so much harder to hide everything bundled below the top layer. It is as though the world strips off their defences and shows who they are beneath.

Who am I, though? I am Ivy Soren. I am the girl who shivers when the sun threatens to melt her resolve. I am the girl who cannot forgive, who will never forget. I am the girl who is so far beyond broken that nobody can stop her. But why must people treat me like I'm still fragile, when in reality I'm already so shattered that it wouldn't matter. I do not splinter at the slightest touch. I care not for the little things. But there is a line, a silent line, in my head. One side of the line is fine, is smiling. The other side of the line is a place so dark and grim that it is almost impossible to reach into it's depths. But if you do, you will regret it. The line has already been crossed, though, so people shouldn't worry about finding the ice within me. Why can they not help it to melt, for it stubbornly stays whole, biting, so cold and bitter and impossible to understand.

There are scars in my heart as there are scars on Indigo's body. The ones on her skin have healed, but the ones inside of me have only worn deeper in time, rubbing away at my very soul and tipping me so very slowly into insanity. That is a place I do not want to fall, but I am so, so helpless. More helpless that I was when those four walls encased my tiny figure, because before then I never knew there was something better, something to aspire to and hope for. Now I cannot be sure that there is not something beyond the walls of the District. Where Indigo can be content, I must ache for more.

This is why I hate summer. Ray of sunlight shine in beams through the window, but they drown me. I cannot take what they hold, for my pale skin resists it and shuns it and fears it. So instead I walk into the darkness of the factory and I cry. Because crying is the only thing I can do.

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[SNOWFLAKES [Brik]]

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Roseus was the emotion of people presented with her namesake (roses) , whether it be when a man comes home with them cradled within the crook of his arm and present them lovingly to a woman. Or when a woman is slowly stepping over them as she walks calmly to the spot where she will be united with her other half. Or the feeling when a woman catches them when they are thrown behind a newlywed woman. She is the basic embodiment of happiness. She never exactly had the ability to be anything more or less, but especially less.

Sadness was never an option for her. It was almost as if she had the literal incapability to let her face fall from the all too bright smiles to the darker depths of what was despair. It was frustrating sometimes; how could a girl in such an imperfect and hateful and cruel world smile? How could a girl where people died each year because of some rebellion that happened years and years prior and jeeze, she thinks, they should just let it go, it was so long ago.

[/s] possibly have the ability to laugh and smile and just be able to express joy? A simple concept. Hope.

The possibility that one day the Games might end, and that everybody in Panem wouldn’t be as miserable as they are as of today. The possibility that things will get better and that in time, the troubles of Panem will melt away and there will be peace and calm and freedom. The possibility that she might even be able to see that happen. The future was all too bright for her to think so dark. Hiding from the light and refusing to acknowledge that there could possibly be a beautiful future ahead wasn’t an option for Roseus.

Tolerating sadness was never an option either. Roseus could walk into a room and within thirty minutes have everybody with stitches at the corner of their mouths up to their cheeks, whether forced or willing. She is like the sunlight that travels down upon the Earth when the sun rises in the West. Warm, and even the person with the heart of ice has it melt in her presence.

But when she feels this ever so present iciness in the form of bitter, unsettling tears, it’s almost like her blood freezes over.

{ooc; I am so sorry for this post I don't even know what's going on} [/size] [/blockquote] [/justify]