Angel Breath
Beads, Books, Design | by N.M. King
#writingdaily | Mira
There are two sides to everything.
So many tones ring in my ears, whether or not I want to hear them. The bright song of those nearby whom hold a special place in the journey I tread. The dingy, tinny scraping of those who wish me ill simply because I have the light. The melancholy minor tones of those who struggle against the dark whispers, groping for the song their soul longs to sing. I hear them all. A cacophony of melodies that do not always sound like the tender lives they truly are.
Of course, music is the only way I can speak–truly speak. Words get in the way of what I long to express to all those hearts shuddering around me. Some days my song is able to join with theirs and blossom, touching their aching heart in such a way that tears erupt and they laugh away their apologies.
Their tone is different for so long after that happens, a relief when I see and hear them again.
Only once have the tones of a being’s heart been beyond what I could fathom. Whispers and laughter melted together in a throaty groan of agony that seemed… blissful to them. They revelled in the morose and heavy grunge of tones and chaos. They fed on it.
I could not hide myself fast enough, running frantically from that unsound which shuddered through me. I think it laughed as it watched me flee, grinning after me and basking in the terror its sound bred in me. How would I forget that emptiness? How could I?
Each and every day now that song haunts me, motivating my voice to craft a different tone and a way to escape the hopelessness it encapsulated… but it remains.
Perhaps it is my other side?
Angel Breath 