For the last two days I’ve wakened with the very lovely song, Hallelujah, on the tip of my tongue. It’s been a nice little mantra to spend the day with. However, my mind has obviously had enough of that for I woke up with this phrase: “I suck teh blue lemons!”
… WTH …
You are The Moon
Hope, expectation, Bright promises. The Moon is a card of magic and mystery – when prominent you know that nothing is as it seems, particularly when it concerns relationships. All logic is thrown out the window.
The Moon is all about visions and illusions, madness, genius and poetry. This is a card that has to do with sleep, and so with both dreams and nightmares. It is a scary card in that it warns that there might be hidden enemies, tricks and falsehoods. But it should also be remembered that this is a card of great creativity, of powerful magic, primal feelings and intuition. You may be going through a time of emotional and mental trial; if you have any past mental problems, you must be vigilant in taking your medication but avoid drugs or alcohol, as abuse of either will cause them irreparable damage. This time however, can also result in great creativity, psychic powers, visions and insight. You can and should trust your intuition.
What Tarot Card are You? Take the Test to Find Out.
For you Egyptologists out there — 
What is Your Egyptian Zodiac Sign? Designed by CyberWarlock of Warlock’s Quizzles and Quandaries
Horus
Sparkling personality, intense will, intelligent, understanding, impatient to exert influence.
Colors: male: red carmine
female: gold
Compatible Signs:
Bastet, Geb
Dates: Apr 20 – May 7, Aug 12 – Aug 19
Role: God of the pharaoh
Appearance: Form of a falcon-headed man, wearing the double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt.
Sacred Animal: falcon
A fictional, little story of someone hurting…
Holes.
No. Not holes, but gaps.
Irregular, undulating. There one minute, gone the next.
I’ve realized that there’s so much that I am missing and I have no idea where to find it. I could easily look everywhere, under this, over that, but what am I looking for? What am I missing?
Incomplete.
Not whole.
I don’t know how to fix what should never have been broken. Bones, yes. Abrasions? Childs play. Cuts, scrapes, bruises… all of them I know how to fix.
This is broken. Me. Fractured? Shattered.
I saw a mirror break once from a single blow. It was a very heavy piece of glass that I struck out in all my rage at. It shattered. That had felt so… very… good.
I remember blushing as a strange feeling, somehow euphoric, yet humming deep in my bones, swept through my veins, every cell. I don’t know what it was, but ever after, when I broke something, I was able to conjure a ghost of that first feeling.
That’s it.
When he kissed me. The same feeling as when the mirror broke. I wanted to be kissed again, and he did so. A sublime moment that I’ve kept hidden away.
It was someone else that kissed me… who shattered me. Such sickness I felt. Such shame. It hurt in my mind, and my body as well. I was able to clean the blood, patch up the many scrapes and scratches… and his hideous bite mark. That took a bit more skill, but I did it.
My body functions, now. Like a robot… a golem? Everything is a routine programmed in my mind. A strong imprint. A script.
I wake in the morning. 8:30am. On the dot.
I then make my ablutions, brush my teeth, and clean my face. I shower every other day.
I choose my clothes from the wardrobe. A simple shirt, a pair of shorts, socks, shoes. For some reason, I get a little mesmerised when I tie my shoes. A little ill.
Knots in the laces.
Knots in the rope that bound my hands.
No. Routine. Back to the script.
Breakfast is next, although food still does not taste right. Ash. Soot. But, I eat because my body needs it.
Homework is simple. Well, homework is never simple, but I like it. I can think about so many other things than the storm of broken shards twirling in my brain like a frightening, menacing, tornado.
Tea is in the afternoon. I don’t really like tea anymore. I hate it, I think. It does taste good, though, and there’s warmth. When we go outside, I dodge the shadows as I grasp at the rays of the sun.
On my face, my limbs… everywhere.
Tea is when we talk. Or I cry. Sometimes I shout. I’ve punched and kicked, but always I am held together by an embrace. Strong arms and hands that are helping me to put the scattered shards back together.
Humpty Dumpty. I have to laugh. If I don’t…
If I don’t…
The Routine. The Script. I have to remember that.
After tea is time for true freedom. That’s when I can go outside, seeking the sun and the blue sky. My guardian comes with me. I think my guardian needs that freedom, the sun, and the sky, too. We don’t talk. We don’t go over my memories.
Bliss.
At night my guardian teaches me in the twilit hours. I’m taught ways to keep myself safe. I’m taught so that what happened will never happen again. I’m taught how to rebuild myself from the broken pieces.
Finally, there is sleep. Sleep means dreams.
Nightmares.
I have yet to sleep the whole night without waking to screams, only to learn later that it was me that was screaming.
Hours turn into days, days turn into weeks. There are steps back, but I am recovering. I am rebuilding.
I am still afraid, but my guardian is with me now. I still see the holes, the gaps, but they are growing smaller. I know what I am looking for, now. Peace. Belonging. Love.
I won’t be alone.
Never again.
This is an original story influenced by a very angsty, very well written fan fiction piece called Walk the Shadows. Harry Potter fans will immediately feel that this story is about Harry and Severus Snape, but it isn’t. It is about anyone who has ever been hurt, broken, neglected, or has been lost. Hence, this is NOT a fan fiction piece and will never be posted on a fan fic site.
I am seeking a question.
