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UntamedUnwanted by cosmosgrl19

Literature by ruhee2212

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Submitted on
September 29, 2012
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1.9 KB


148 (who?)


Creative Commons License
Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
My version of winter has always been flawed. It is controlled by the fall of snow and the exact amount of the ground it covers. It never ever covers the tiny little patch in the garden, right near the broken tin roofed shed. I suppose that is why I just like the idea of snow. But I do not love it.

(Realisation: I suppose that little corner represents the only part of me that even I cannot love.)

I met a man with candle lit wolf eyes and a strong, warm lion heart, who tells me Sea God stories before disappearing into a cold, cold winter's morning, fog cloaking his very essence.

(Addendum: Sometimes I think of five a.m. coffee, and wonder if your smile didn't hold all of winter's warmth in it, whether I would still be liking the idea of it.)

He lights candles and turns my room into a place of sanctity and prayer often. It makes the love making ironic in a way, I suppose. But nothing he ever does fails to intrigue the very fabric that my cotton soul is made of.

(Observation: His body is my temple, his hands my place of prayer. He treats me like a high priestess, sometimes his queen, and nothing at all.)

On a day when I was breaking into pieces of me, he took my hands, and promised me a forever made of windows of snow, winter and candles, the kind of winter candles that never ever die out when placed on windowsills.

I looked into his eyes and explained to him how forever was winter proof, that candles die, oh and just so he knew, "Minds like mine are glasshouses that can defeat even the most beautiful of snowstorms."

(Apologies: I am going to give you a bat, my darling. Here is my glasshouse.

Now then. Start smashing.
I am sorry, my K. I don't mean to lash out or hurt anyone, least of all you. I am just damaged and that is the work of the demons who hurt me before I met you, my Knight. It doesn't mean I don't love you. It means I am scared to give myself completely to the idea that someone loves me as much as I love him.

This is the best way I know to say sorry. This is the only way I know how to say sorry.

I love you.

(I promise I am trying to be back as soon as I can. I promise I always will love you. I promise you a home, children and a beautiful marriage. And I always keep my promises.)
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Sigma-Echo-Seven Featured By Owner Dec 31, 2012  Student Writer
I teared up a little bit, reading this.
Halcyal Featured By Owner Dec 8, 2012
Stylistically beautiful in its rendering (as seems to be something of a mark of your craft).

My sense of this is an outward casement of fear and bitterness that still holds a flame beneath, peaking out through the cracks; a flame that tastes light and wants to burn; a flame that senses, in the winter, a warmth, to which it both yearns and recoils.

From what I can gather, I presume that the referenced 'him' looked at you, put the bat down gently and said, "no".
NotenSMSK Featured By Owner Nov 18, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
This is a strange work. Strange in a good sense though. It has an eerie feeling. It tells a tale which is kept at a distance from where the reader is able to observe it yet not fully dwell in it. The writing style like many of your works is unique and the italics play their role well.

The last portion about glasshouses and giving him a bat made were the best for me. Best since, even though I might not had such an emotional experience, it gave me the feel that a person who is broken hearted has still realized where fantasies lie... and where truth extends. Whether their perspective is correct or not, whether fantasies shall continue for them or disappear... is not the question. It is just realization due to an unspoken past.

Realization... is what takes you forward. But it is also what hurts you the most. But no worries... I don't think someone you have trusted the way you have, will smash your glasshouse... ah, glasshouse. Reminds me of a work by my friend. Just as touching as this if not more. I think your glasshouse is safe as long as you keep it safe ^^

Wonderful work like always from you.
Starkpretty Featured By Owner Oct 8, 2012
What a beautiful piece of work. It's so raw and speaks to the heart of me, as I'm sure it will do to your K.

I think the work of the demons is fading, then. This is where it starts.

UntamedUnwanted Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thanks so very much...He works fast, my K...on all the demons in my head.
Starkpretty Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2012
No problem- he sounds fantastic. :)
BekahFeelsLoved Featured By Owner Oct 2, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
very creative! :)
UntamedUnwanted Featured By Owner Oct 28, 2012  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you!! :D
BekahFeelsLoved Featured By Owner Nov 4, 2012  Hobbyist General Artist
no problem ^^
XxblackblossomxX Featured By Owner Oct 1, 2012  Hobbyist Digital Artist
I really do love theses posts of yours. They speak to my soul and i feel more intra, inter i suppose. It's beautiful and I'm positive your promises will come to reality.
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