I Have Ruined Myself [Pride]

"Before I knew it, I..." Mercury whips his gaze away, eyes wet and mouth contorted into a pained grimace. It takes a moment, but he calms himself enough to continue.

"Everything was dark, and there were whispers. My body was too heavy; I couldn't move it." He looks down at his hands, ruddy from having wrung them a few two many times during the story. "The runway was hot and wet below me. And then there were hands and sirens, and--" He lets out a wheezy laugh that cuts off into a pained noise, leaning back against his bed's headboard as he presses the heels of his palms against his tired eyes.

"Then they told me it was over, Blue. Right then, they took everything I had worked my whole life for, and just... Killed it." For a moment, he grips the roots of his bangs to regain control over himself. When his white-knuckled grip finally ends, he stares through Blue, sat worriedly at his bedside, at something or someone who wasn't there. His eyes do not sparkle like they do when he's creating a new design. They are dull. Empty. They accompany the saddest smile Blue thinks he's ever seen in his life.

"They should've just killed me, too."

In the quiet hours of some endless nights,

I walk the runway of memories and faded spotlights.

Once, I was the canvas for dreams, a shining star,

But now, my prideful crown has fallen too far.

I wore aspirations like couture, with grace and flair,

Strutting down the catwalk with an ethereal air.

But time, a relentless, unforgiving tide,

Has shown me where those dreams and I divide.

The echoes of critical failures, they linger near,

Whispering my terrible secrets only I can hear.

Their weight upon my heart, a heavy shroud,

Every day, a haunting reminder of a past unbowed.

Every ragged breath, every unexpected collapse,

Every drunken night, a moment of relapse.

Oh, how a creeping illness still haunts the present's stage,

A melancholy tale of a young model's bygone age.

As the runway lights dim and the applause subsides,

I navigate these uncertain paths, where hope resides.

In the silence of this weary soul's lament,

I find solace in humility, a lesson sent.

For my first flame may have met its end,

But in the present, I must find strength to mend.

Submitted By LuridGhost ・ View Favorites
Submitted: 1 year and 1 month ago ・ Last Updated: 1 year and 1 month ago