02-05-2020, 12:30 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 440px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.2; color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 0.5px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"] frost bites — a harsh , yet playful nip upon stiff fingertips . malachi welcomes the silent greeting . fine crystals of white adorn her face like jewelry ; salt and pepper hued , the way snow collects in dark curls , and dusts over brows . it's quite the foil to bluestem’s arid climate ; something she didn’t necessarily favor . instead of the flurry of delicate white that clings to your clothes like a desperate child to loving mother , it’s the brown of dirt and dust that leaves one choking . deprives of oxygen . the sun and the rays that blistered were uncomfortable with their presence . uninviting and agitating . she couldn’t stand the heat that refused to leave her , leaving pale skin slicked in sweat and nerves pricked like sandpaper grate against flesh . bluestem wasn't much of a sight for sore eyes itself . unless , that is , backwoods living was more of your aesthetic . with beaten trailer homes, withered trees of acacia , and miles upon miles of dry grasslands ; she'd be more than gracious enough to allow you to keep that one . the image was only good for the photos .
in contrast , however , many are adverse to the cold . unwelcoming and melancholic in feeling , as commonly described . malachi can’t say her views hold the same , but she's never been one to conform to the common thinking of sheep . there’s more contempt for the beach than there is for sheets of ice and trees capped with white . dependent on mood ; glacial settings is where her mental thrives . darker atmosphere invites even colder thoughts , though masked by a beauty no one can quite describe . she'd rather you remain silent . it’s always best to not speak , but admire . however , as opposed to crystalline mountains ; golden-spread beaches are faux symbols of radiant joy . the ultimate pillar of deception . arrogant and boastful . conceited . its holy image worshiped — romanticized to the point all's reduced to blind praise . the epicenter of liberation , the image tries to sell ; sun-soaked warmth and positive feeling . it's a bitter thought .
it makes her nostrils flare . the beach may look holy , but once you venture past pale granules of sand spread seemingly forever , you stand face-to-face with a vast ocean of secrets . what lurks in those waters ? who’s to say . but one thing’s for certain , it’s one hell of an ugly thing , and it’d drag you down into the depths of black with it . devil in disguise ; he just so happens to be cloaked by the sun . if that’s the case , she’d rather suffocate in a bed of white , than sleep in faux comfort under a blanket of gold . at least , at light , she’s aware of what she’s dealing with .
of course , considering her rather unique greeting and the experiences following , time spent in the group’s company wasn’t all wasted . memorable in it’s own way , though , not ultimately enough to tie her down to the place with sentiments . malachi could appreciate it for what it was , sure . a fuel to fleeting amusement . unfortunately , those looking for the attribute of unwavering loyalty — she wasn’t quite the individual they’d be graced with the luck of having . don’t trust her to keep ties bound . like a wildfire , full of smoke and rage , she'll burn all bridges just to keep herself warm . oh , so selfish . malachi simply can't help it . she's only useful for the time being . stagnant flow of familiarity and routine means nothing to her . malachi’s a tumbleweed caught within the storm of life . non-committal . here today and gone the next . she’ll leave them in her good graces , though . that’s nice enough , yeah ? hopefully they don’t hold too much derision for her in return . abandonment’s not something she’d take well either , though , again , she bears the mark of a hypocrite on both sleeves .
feet sink deep within the snow the farther she treads . aimless in travel , there's no set destination she holds hopes of reaching anytime soon . her back sits heavy with all that rests upon it , the bulk of her backpack , slapping against her . admittedly , exhaustion's settling in , eyelids growing heavy . pale green eyes are low — hooded and lethargic , but who's quite to blame it on the lack of energy ? admittedly , she's still a little high from the joint she smoked several minutes prior . head clouded , she felt the trip'd be better spent a little faded . that , she can't quite help either . call it a bad habit . it'll be alright . malachi lets a yawn escape her . features crease as eyes shut tight , breath visible in the chilled breeze . throwing her arms above her head , fingers interlocking in stretch , she's satisfied when a subtle pop emits from tight muscles . malachi gives her back a small rub . now to keep on moving . she can feel icicles begin to form on the edge of hey eyelashes ; pink lips chapped with cold . the frigid air is starting to seep in her bones . not enough to urge concern . malachi will always assert that she's fine , regardless , but truthfully , she's not at all bothered . she adjusts the furred parka that hugs her figure , her hood now held over head .
into a curtain of white , she advances ; the now violent reign of wind and snow , beating upon the mountains . shadows engulfed , she disappears just as quick as she arrives , though , who's quite to assert she's had enough of this glacial wonderland ? maybe this time , like the ice to the world below , she'll stick around .
in contrast , however , many are adverse to the cold . unwelcoming and melancholic in feeling , as commonly described . malachi can’t say her views hold the same , but she's never been one to conform to the common thinking of sheep . there’s more contempt for the beach than there is for sheets of ice and trees capped with white . dependent on mood ; glacial settings is where her mental thrives . darker atmosphere invites even colder thoughts , though masked by a beauty no one can quite describe . she'd rather you remain silent . it’s always best to not speak , but admire . however , as opposed to crystalline mountains ; golden-spread beaches are faux symbols of radiant joy . the ultimate pillar of deception . arrogant and boastful . conceited . its holy image worshiped — romanticized to the point all's reduced to blind praise . the epicenter of liberation , the image tries to sell ; sun-soaked warmth and positive feeling . it's a bitter thought .
it makes her nostrils flare . the beach may look holy , but once you venture past pale granules of sand spread seemingly forever , you stand face-to-face with a vast ocean of secrets . what lurks in those waters ? who’s to say . but one thing’s for certain , it’s one hell of an ugly thing , and it’d drag you down into the depths of black with it . devil in disguise ; he just so happens to be cloaked by the sun . if that’s the case , she’d rather suffocate in a bed of white , than sleep in faux comfort under a blanket of gold . at least , at light , she’s aware of what she’s dealing with .
of course , considering her rather unique greeting and the experiences following , time spent in the group’s company wasn’t all wasted . memorable in it’s own way , though , not ultimately enough to tie her down to the place with sentiments . malachi could appreciate it for what it was , sure . a fuel to fleeting amusement . unfortunately , those looking for the attribute of unwavering loyalty — she wasn’t quite the individual they’d be graced with the luck of having . don’t trust her to keep ties bound . like a wildfire , full of smoke and rage , she'll burn all bridges just to keep herself warm . oh , so selfish . malachi simply can't help it . she's only useful for the time being . stagnant flow of familiarity and routine means nothing to her . malachi’s a tumbleweed caught within the storm of life . non-committal . here today and gone the next . she’ll leave them in her good graces , though . that’s nice enough , yeah ? hopefully they don’t hold too much derision for her in return . abandonment’s not something she’d take well either , though , again , she bears the mark of a hypocrite on both sleeves .
feet sink deep within the snow the farther she treads . aimless in travel , there's no set destination she holds hopes of reaching anytime soon . her back sits heavy with all that rests upon it , the bulk of her backpack , slapping against her . admittedly , exhaustion's settling in , eyelids growing heavy . pale green eyes are low — hooded and lethargic , but who's quite to blame it on the lack of energy ? admittedly , she's still a little high from the joint she smoked several minutes prior . head clouded , she felt the trip'd be better spent a little faded . that , she can't quite help either . call it a bad habit . it'll be alright . malachi lets a yawn escape her . features crease as eyes shut tight , breath visible in the chilled breeze . throwing her arms above her head , fingers interlocking in stretch , she's satisfied when a subtle pop emits from tight muscles . malachi gives her back a small rub . now to keep on moving . she can feel icicles begin to form on the edge of hey eyelashes ; pink lips chapped with cold . the frigid air is starting to seep in her bones . not enough to urge concern . malachi will always assert that she's fine , regardless , but truthfully , she's not at all bothered . she adjusts the furred parka that hugs her figure , her hood now held over head .
into a curtain of white , she advances ; the now violent reign of wind and snow , beating upon the mountains . shadows engulfed , she disappears just as quick as she arrives , though , who's quite to assert she's had enough of this glacial wonderland ? maybe this time , like the ice to the world below , she'll stick around .