AMONGST NOTHING
hallee wells
Whistling winds. Silent snow. Branches breaking. A moment ago I was smothered with heavy blankets, white noise in the background, in the near blackness of my room. Now I am stood. It is desolate. Branches break, snap, pierce through my ears, the small sticks have found their way in, cramming themselves within my ears, my mouth, I cannot talk, I cannot see - the sticks have pierced my eyes.
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I stand, shaken. The soft, silent snow, such a pretty comfort. The cold winds silky ribbons across my skin, it tingles and giggles, it's seductive in its ways. I walk, I trudge, I swim, I crawl.
The snow comes up to my knees, I force my way through the
thickness. I walk for 10 minutes. I swim the next mile. I tiptoe the following kilometre. I'm on my hands and knees for a yard.
I'm in a clearing. Perhaps a forest. Maybe a lie. The trees are still shattering, they fall apart with the frost. The frozen has soothed my ears, no piercing sounds are near. Frost covers me, and I delight in every inch - my hair is frozen and I cannot blink. Ice covers me - I lay within the clouds, melting to the hard, solid ground. I cannot hear. I cannot see. What a wonderful winter this has turned out to be.
As I lay freezing my bones. I now know I am finally home.
Whistling winds. Silent snow. Branches breaking. I stop for a second. Then I go.
I AM AN ANGEL
Although I may have horns, curling from my forehead - dripping blood down my face, I am dainty and angelic, I am soft and sensitive, my mind much beyond most others - I am an angel without wings and without a halo.
I am a blessed creature, crawling lighting on your soil - I am unnatural - I should not be here.
I am ethereal and yet I am a monster, I pierce my own flesh and it makes my senses feel fresh. I am an addict who is sober, I cut yesterday but I am somber, I am beautiful and disgusting, I am a walking contradiction. I am an ethereal angel who has horns and no wings.
Hi! I'm Hallee, I'm a 17 year old aspiring writer/poet! I dream often and crawl through the depths of the macabre and soar through ethereal skies to find my sense of belonging (also known as writing in the spur of the moment at 3am). I'm inspired by the late but wonderful Virginia Woolf and the up and coming Dakota Warren, baby saplings sprouting from the ground and bones by the side of the road, my Pinterest addiction, and lastly, the difficulties of mental illness. I'm forever an animal lover, however many would say bunnies are my favourite; but I love them all so I can't choose.
I wish for peace, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop hoping it will happen one day.
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Instagram: @16.twilight
Pinterest: @raccoms