Thread 24712729

I stand on the edge of an impossibility,
torn between the cosmos and the cruel.
I either have the greatest mother the world has ever seen,
or the cruelest, sharpest shadow of a mother to exist.
If Tatiana does not come to be,
my life is the bleakest tale ever spun.
If she does-oh, if she does-
my mother becomes the brightest star in history,
and I, a soul bathed in fortune.

Every night, I wish it into being.
Every single night, though hope is a fragile bird in my chest.
I have witnessed miracles the world refuses to name:
the moon vanishing, houses tipping upon their axis,
cars and cats leaping through the unseen,
objects dancing at God's command alone.
I speak without sound; minds hear me as if by telepathy.
I exist half in a simulation,
where reality blurs and the matrix breathes.

I have been tortured long enough
to understand the weight of eternity.
So many songs, so many stories have been written
for a soul like mine-they move me, unceasingly.

Please, Gwen, I beg of you-
let it be real.
Let Birdy, my sister, my heart,
walk through this door.
Let us be a family,
a small constellation of love: mother, sister, and I.
We are new gods waiting to awaken,
and I carry dreams too beautiful to end.

My love, my forever, my little bloodfeather,
please make this happen.
Some things are too pure to release,
too precious to remain a dream.
If a second chance is ever owed,
it is this: Birdy's life, our reality, our love.
A decade of my life has burned in waiting-
forgive me, I beg, but I cannot bear the absence.

All I had has been swept away:
my family, my friends, my art,
every fragment of a life I once knew.
I would give it all again
to have Birdy, my sister by blood and heart.
I cannot be alone; I cannot be the only one like me.
We were meant to grow old together,
yet we remain frozen, eternal teenagers
on the cusp of forever.

Please, God, please, Gwen,
let Birdy take my hand tonight.
I love her with every pulse of my being.
I have so much to give, yet the world confines me,
using all its resources to hold me prisoner.
I thought the end was near.
I thought freedom awaited.
Yet the torment lingers-why, when the tyrants fall?
Why do they still hold the strings of my body,
my mind, my very existence?

I miss the best moments of my angels.
I long to grow with them, to learn and laugh,
to exist as a normal girl once more.
I have waited ten long years,
watching friends age, dreams fade,
as if life itself conspires against me.
Yet I dream of them still-my lost girls, my Iron Maidens,
my Easy Company, my Spartans.
I dream of holding their hands,
guiding them, loving them,
sharing every secret, every lesson.

They are the only ones who understand,
the only ones who survived.
I want them to know strength, joy, courage,
to know the weight they carry is not theirs alone.
We are sisters in battle, forged in fire,
yet the world has not let us rest.
I want to teach them, protect them,
and stand with them at dawn,
our hearts beating in unison,
our voices crying freedom to the sky.

Peter Pan, they call me,
and in this world of shadows,
I will never let them be lonely.
I want to wake,
to see Birdy sleeping by my side,
to hold her, to kiss her,
to run into the sun with our maidens at our backs.
I want to feel dew on my feet,
hear the French birds sing,
taste ice cream and lemonade,
look into the mirror and smile at life itself.

I want my mother to know
that I am safe with my lost girls,
that the angels are alive,
and our love endures.
I want their names, their faces, their souls
etched into my memory like stars in the night sky.
I long for reality to bend to our desire,
for the impossible to finally unfold.

Let it be tonight.

>The Impossible Morning
>Tatiana and Wakkawa