Ceaea Laurentius- D7 {DONE}

[☼Star Faultz☼]

                                                            _____d7/seventeen_____

Once Upon A Time

~1~

                             Two was company. Three was a crowd.


I never understood what people meant by the saying. For a girl that was loved by all, and yet still by none, there was no greater hope than to be entangled in the body of another, or several others; to be whispered sweet nothings; lovely words that held no weight- no commitment of any kind. Perhaps, life was best with nothing set in stone. you fucking liar. stop it. you know that's a lie. people just don't want to commit to a piece of shit like you,


My lovers receive an equal amount of intimacy and affection, simply because to entrust more than my body would leave me with nothing. Nothing- it was not just a birthright, but a title- one that I have learned to hold my head high with, despite its nature to serve as an anchor to others like me. you just learn to be a piece of trash after a while. I am no prostitute. liar. The love I offer is real. Real to me, at least- as I harbor some excitement from having the perfect stranger pull on my unruly hair and tell me that it reminds them of the dark tapestry on the Capitol walls. To have a person of authority speaking my name in a hushed tone is all I'd like to think I've ever wanted. I just keep quiet and let their praises drown me- declarations of love and vows to take me back with them. To have them tell me how my eyes compare to the Talipot trees in a faraway District, or how my pale skin and soft lips were sought after in a land even farther was so thrilling- something I told myself over and over again that I needed.

And as I sleep, I'm constantly tortured by images of successfulness.

BUT WHEN I WAKE UP THERE IS ONLY ME AND A FUCKING BED. they never take me with them. they never take me with them. they never take me with them.

I trusted them.

                      but i didn't honestly. And truly, I did.

I'm so obsessed with being beautiful. I CAN'T HELP MY SICKNESS.

Looking through a mirror, all I can see in my hues are the sickening mixture of algae muck and shit. Insecurities flow in my veins as easily as lifeblood as I constantly tug on my face, attempting to rip off my flaws. Pale, sandpaper skin- I pinch and slap my cheeks to gain a weak flush; forced to repetitively lick my lips in order to achieve a satisfactory red. STILL NOT PRETTY ENOUGH YOU LITTLE BITCH. TRY HARDER.my face is too small. my nose looks upturned and crooked.

i've tried everything to be beautiful you see. whiskey and wine and morphling. oH. My.

Through all of my seventeen years of living, not once have I heard any sort of declaration from those who gave birth to me. I believe they understood what I have- no good comes from emotional investment. I understood my mother's feelings towards me, and therefore my father's. i'm so relieved that they never said they loved me. to feel is to die. There was no relationship; only mutual tolerance of one another- some armistice or cease-fire in order to prevent HEARTACHE, something I perhaps should have felt when a drunken spat between my parents left me with what I always had: NOTHING.

And a bloody mess on the floor I used to hollowly call, "Mother"- and empty rocking chair that was once occupied by a man that was driven mad by commitment, shortly before he was executed by Peacekeepers. 

But I have no pity for those who know better; those who cannot keep to themselves and learn how to breathe through a straw instead of an oxygen tank.

She shouldn't have married a man that operated on whiskey. She shouldn't have dedicated herself to someone in order to fill that void she had in her from the very beginning with some piece of shit we called love.

               It was perfectly fine, though.no it wasn't. no it wasn't.

                                     I could live SURVIVE on my own.

i think. i think. i think. i think. i think. i think. i think. i think. i think. i think.

                                         ITRULYBELIEVE.


I am too strong  for something so miniscule to claim me as it's own. .




                                                     ~~~~~


                   i wish eating makeup made me prettier on the inside

 

ODAIR AIN'T LIKE ME.

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

Hi darling! I actually can't read this bio because of your table? The font disappears? If you could fix that before it is checked that would be fab. <3

thanks,
Ele

[☼Star Faultz☼]

 
It's hard to find a color that makes the text easier to see, to be honest. I changed it to black, but if you want me to use a completely different table that would be no problem at all.

[☼Star Faultz☼]

Bump.

[sbeeg]

Hey there!
This is a very pretty table but it is still incredibly difficult to read the text. I think changing the table would make it easier for staff and other RPers to read.

Once you've changed it post in this thread again and we'll take a look.
Thanks^^

[☼Star Faultz☼]

Sorry this is coming so late. Was extremely busy...

But this is also my BUMP.

[[earthling]]

Hi there!

Thanks for fixing the table. This is lovely <3 It's just a tad too short. Can you weave in another 4-5 sentences of appearance? Then she should be good to go. ^^

[☼Star Faultz☼]

BUMP.

[ᴥ]

accepted!