~Life rattlings of a Lesbian~
By: Skylorduranus
Rating: R (angst and language)
Disclaimer: A long long time ago in a galaxy far away, there were two star crossed lovers. And DiC saw this and went "holy shit protect the american children" and made them cousins. We slash writers all laughed and said "well fine you bigoted fools" and wrote it hear, though they pay us not.
Author Note: Hello all my happy readers, I missed you all so dearly. Here is the next chapter in my slowly growing fic of the everyday woe of a lesbian, told from my heart to yours. Enjoy...
With no further ado...
~Life rattlings of a Lesbian~ By:Skylorduranus Chapter 6- Dear Kel
Dear Kel, I should be doing my homework, I should be reteaching myself the three years of japanese I took, I should be finding some way to get up the courage to talk to my parents, I should be working on my art work for the next show, or the violin peice for my next recital. But I'm not. I'm layign here on my bed talking an innatment leather book bond with a single strand of hide that holds all my secrets. I could just leave you on their bed, hah. I can hear myself now. "Night mom, g'night papa, here's all the proof you'll need that I'm a dyke. Oh, and I love you too." Hah. I read over your pages and I am shocked at my cruedness, raw ,dry emotions fill your parchment lips and I am left as the bard, singing the woes of your neverending story. There I go again, spouting odd sniplits of poetry. Maybe that's where my problem lies, in the fact that I never really wanted to go out and flirt with the guys, always wanted to stay home and write poetry, never wanted to flirt with the football team, always wanted to draw the cheerleaders instead. Fuck it all Kel, why do I do this? Why do I put myself at such a level of scruitney? I've got the bruises to prove what my self-awareness has gotten me. Those cheerleaders, the ones I used to draw, the ring leader finds it justified to loft a rock at my head while screaming "dyke" and laughing hysterically. Mom and papa said this move was for the better, to connect us with our roots, with our family. For all I care, they can shoot me and throw me off of toyko tower. God Dammit! I'm a freak! Everyone else sees it! Why can't I? Why must I feel justified in my being what I am, why do I accept it as me when no one else can? Why am I a faggot? Why do I have to be the one at the roots of all their jokes and cruelty? Admist all this swirling black, I find one speck of golden dew. Her, she shares the torment and pain, and with one smile from her soft lips I find myself whisked away into a place where a rock cannot harm me, and words are simply toys that poets play with. She alone is worth the pain, but can she ever know how I feel? Is she one who bears the pain only because she knows nothing else...or could she...the one I adore...be bearing the pain...for me?
Love, Michiru
Disclaimer: A long long time ago in a galaxy far away, there were two star crossed lovers. And DiC saw this and went "holy shit protect the american children" and made them cousins. We slash writers all laughed and said "well fine you bigoted fools" and wrote it hear, though they pay us not.
Author Note: Hello all my happy readers, I missed you all so dearly. Here is the next chapter in my slowly growing fic of the everyday woe of a lesbian, told from my heart to yours. Enjoy...
With no further ado...
~Life rattlings of a Lesbian~ By:Skylorduranus Chapter 6- Dear Kel
Dear Kel, I should be doing my homework, I should be reteaching myself the three years of japanese I took, I should be finding some way to get up the courage to talk to my parents, I should be working on my art work for the next show, or the violin peice for my next recital. But I'm not. I'm layign here on my bed talking an innatment leather book bond with a single strand of hide that holds all my secrets. I could just leave you on their bed, hah. I can hear myself now. "Night mom, g'night papa, here's all the proof you'll need that I'm a dyke. Oh, and I love you too." Hah. I read over your pages and I am shocked at my cruedness, raw ,dry emotions fill your parchment lips and I am left as the bard, singing the woes of your neverending story. There I go again, spouting odd sniplits of poetry. Maybe that's where my problem lies, in the fact that I never really wanted to go out and flirt with the guys, always wanted to stay home and write poetry, never wanted to flirt with the football team, always wanted to draw the cheerleaders instead. Fuck it all Kel, why do I do this? Why do I put myself at such a level of scruitney? I've got the bruises to prove what my self-awareness has gotten me. Those cheerleaders, the ones I used to draw, the ring leader finds it justified to loft a rock at my head while screaming "dyke" and laughing hysterically. Mom and papa said this move was for the better, to connect us with our roots, with our family. For all I care, they can shoot me and throw me off of toyko tower. God Dammit! I'm a freak! Everyone else sees it! Why can't I? Why must I feel justified in my being what I am, why do I accept it as me when no one else can? Why am I a faggot? Why do I have to be the one at the roots of all their jokes and cruelty? Admist all this swirling black, I find one speck of golden dew. Her, she shares the torment and pain, and with one smile from her soft lips I find myself whisked away into a place where a rock cannot harm me, and words are simply toys that poets play with. She alone is worth the pain, but can she ever know how I feel? Is she one who bears the pain only because she knows nothing else...or could she...the one I adore...be bearing the pain...for me?
Love, Michiru