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Oct. 21st, 2006 04:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dollsomeCheck me out! Funky drabbles! Or, well, one. Whatever.
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iamalreadyinuse --
Somewhere a clock is ticking and Kate can feel it in her heartbeat and her bones; this is eternal, it says, time is running out, it says, running running her legs ache for it and it's like she's six with scabs on her knees and a pretty white dress. Her (criminal) hands clasp the bars 'til her knuckles turn snow white and she blinks back tears and she chokes back sobs like this isn't the place she's supposed to be at all, this isn't where she was supposed to end up, not her. She's a sheep with a wolf grin, not the other way around, and there's Henry saying his name is Benjamin and that he knows just how dirty she is, he can see right clean into her soul.
Across from her, Sawyer looks at her like she's something beautiful, and this scares her more than anything else because he was the one, the only one who saw the grit and the ugliness underneath and still didn't look away. But now he talks to her just the same as he always did only his words are soft, and his eyes are more sweet than sharp and she tries so damn hard not to love him because she knows that's just what they want, because otherwise it wouldn't be him out here caged just like she is.
At night she curls up on a slab of stone and feels like a virgin sacrifice, all dolled up in white with her unruly curls and her prince charming locked up, look-but-don't-touch, able only to reach his hand out from in between the bars but not allowed to kiss her back to life. Sweet dreams, Freckles, he says and she feels his eyes on her in the moonlight as she tries to rest. She clasps her hands like she's praying I'm a killer a killer I turn lives to dust and it's not as easy as they might think to break her. She's a monster, after all.
tick tick tick
iamalreadyinuse -- Somewhere a clock is ticking and Kate can feel it in her heartbeat and her bones; this is eternal, it says, time is running out, it says, running running her legs ache for it and it's like she's six with scabs on her knees and a pretty white dress. Her (criminal) hands clasp the bars 'til her knuckles turn snow white and she blinks back tears and she chokes back sobs like this isn't the place she's supposed to be at all, this isn't where she was supposed to end up, not her. She's a sheep with a wolf grin, not the other way around, and there's Henry saying his name is Benjamin and that he knows just how dirty she is, he can see right clean into her soul.
Across from her, Sawyer looks at her like she's something beautiful, and this scares her more than anything else because he was the one, the only one who saw the grit and the ugliness underneath and still didn't look away. But now he talks to her just the same as he always did only his words are soft, and his eyes are more sweet than sharp and she tries so damn hard not to love him because she knows that's just what they want, because otherwise it wouldn't be him out here caged just like she is.
At night she curls up on a slab of stone and feels like a virgin sacrifice, all dolled up in white with her unruly curls and her prince charming locked up, look-but-don't-touch, able only to reach his hand out from in between the bars but not allowed to kiss her back to life. Sweet dreams, Freckles, he says and she feels his eyes on her in the moonlight as she tries to rest. She clasps her hands like she's praying I'm a killer a killer I turn lives to dust and it's not as easy as they might think to break her. She's a monster, after all.
tick tick tick
