Delicate shards of broken glass, strewn across the garden, twinkled as the sun began to burn against the morning fog. Ruby beams gently smothered the sky, dousing the early hours in a massacre of violent colours, breaking the spell of silence the night spurred on. The calls of winged animals peaked up from the surrounding trees, squawks and chirps harmonising eagerly. It was magic, the world never ceased to prick Lavenders skin apart, ripping her open until she too were a speck of dust swirling in the heat. Apart of nature.

Heaving her limp legs off the dewy lawn, Lavender thoughtlessly sunk her bare soles into the smashed vase remains, purring deeply as the jagged corners pinched the toughened skin of her feet. Though she could not visibly recall the detail, blood swelled from the inflicted wounds like a bed of poppies, stark as death in the middle of spring.

Lavender carried on all the same, the pain a blissful kiss, making her grin masochistically.

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It’s something. Happy New Year.

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