A moment of hesitance comes next.

But most of all, the regret that would wallow your mind is perhaps the thing that snaps you back there.

Yeah, it's normal.

The specks of rue imprinted on your eyes and the painting of an appalling shade of gray yet both subjects aren't there for you to focus upon but are existing to ravel you in a cocoon of maturity and reticence.

It was with the counsel of unjust and discriminated whispers from lips, whether your own or another, that you dissolve the fear and uncertainty to a compound of courage and earnestness. You are allowed to a firm where you control what's within and conquer whatever attempts to cage you in a parasitic space of control from another, for you alone is not blinded by red herrings; chaos and fear; half-heartedness and procrastination; and holds you fragile.

You are a warrior. But a mere remnant from a past you cannot avert to can chain you down and swing you with a sword of pressure.

You are a beauty. But the remnants of a “unified” factions unironically splits you to sides; where you are left but a shadow of insecurity.

You are a substance rarer than a Bismuth crystal or a Diquis spheres; perfectly shaped weighting value heavier than Bismuth crystal itself. But the world had failed to see that.

Appraisal and Judgements fathom two disparities differentiated upon one's usage — in hands when facing a just juris but opposes the other when based on the perception of society.

So why is that you allow the world to have the right to judge you with blatant flagrancy.

Say you won't forget.

Promise me you won't forget.

The beauty and rarity you have is unlike any other; purer and unique than element; a promise kept until the end of time.

Don't forget.

You are you.

A unique, rare treasure bestowed by the heavens.

You.

The blood is on her hands.

She was the most beautiful girl you would ever see. Her laughter could soften any man living in the world. Her smiles could brighten even the darkest of days. She was the most beautiful girl you would ever see.

The corpse is in her hands as she stares at it, devoid of any emotion.

She was empathetic. A golden soul gluing everyone together. A kind person who would love you for what you are. Altruistic to the extent she'd help you even if you despise yourself too much to become blind to anything. She was empathetic.

Her blue eyes dull and broken.

She was warm. She will bring you the warmth in which you felt devoid of. She will tell you the kind words you wish to hear most. She will help you fix yourself. The woman who will never make you feel as if you're alone. She was warm.

She stabbed it again with no sheer amount of mercy nor guilt.

She is a beautiful person. She is beautiful. She will never do anything to hurt you.

So, trust her.

“Trust me.” She smiled, no guilt present for the people whom she killed. There was only obsession, a twisted love only sorted for you.

You who reads this.

“I love you.” She says, she goes closer as she bring the knife to her cheek, wounding it deeply. “And you'll love me too, right.” She states, losing the threads of sanity, a ravelled wad meant for you.

You who reads this.

You who reads this.

She's behind you.

I know it wasn't only me. It was someone who was reaching from the depths of those stars, but as quick as light travels; as quick did the message slurred towards our world.

I looked at the night sky brimming with delight; perhaps from the beauty it was able to exert or from its ability to immediately hide the message away; and I've concluded it may be both. The gust swathed me with a benumbed robe, ushering me to go inside as if any second longer would I decipher what the slurred words were hidden in that oneiric sound, and that would cause imminent peril to everyone and me.

So I go inside, a comfort lull still singing as I lay in the bed.

I thought it would be a lambent torch as it always was — the thing that stands by my bedside — but it was discomfort that made me hesitant to go.

Nevertheless, I went in-between the duvet and lay on my back. But it was uncomfortable and so I lay on my left, witnessing the glistening glimmer in the painted shade of blue; beauty and magnificence ravelled the messages of which I hoped to hear; adorned with a feverish moonlit dwindling its light to ready the sun's arrival — well, in the next four hours.

I tried to close my eyes. But the light lit behind me was churning my stomach, and so I cannot sleep. I sat up, blinking once, blinking twice, before I found the courage and warmth to fight the plea of the barely inaudible voice in my head.

'Go back! I don't want to go!'

“It'll be fine.” I whispered closely, yet with the coldness setting in, the anxiety has started to gnaw my gut.

'No, No! Don't!'

With an intake of deep breath, I looked onward. I opened the doors of my balcony, the coldness incremented twelvefold as my skin produced no adequate amount to retain the warmth I was hoping for.

“It'll be fine.” I reiterated, weaker but certain and determined for the actions I'll make.

I looked up in the sky, a small jump I made, and spread my arms to let the cold breeze embrace me. Perhaps a storm is coming, it was turning stronger and harsher, but with a smile on my face, all I've ever thought was how beautiful the galaxy was in the sliver of stars.

Before I met the end abruptly so.

Then I looked down. I was smiling, an ethereal lambent kissing the me naked to this oneiric hush. And in the faint call, I whispered to the nightmare that had encumbered me so.

“Thank you.”