; lucifer %

cashmere cologne

as i walked along the sidewalk of the day that changed my life, i looked up at the pink misty sky that had the fingerprints of god and science on it.
the clouds shifting uneasy, trying to hide the shy sun that was melting and blurring into the end of the earth.
i brushed several spirals of curls out of my face as i glanced up at the broken sign that read "daytona park", or rather "melancholia" which would've been much more suiting to the aura of the park itself.
as i walked into the vicinity of the day that changed my life, my heart quickly jumped at the notice of my anonymous demon in the dark.
as i sat on the broken swing set of the day that changed my life, i silently hoped that the horizon or swing set wouldn't break with the weight of my soul.
but how could i be bothered
with embarrassment when my unknown, my sweet anonymous, was standing about ten meters away from me in all his glory.
a patch of dahlia flowers laid diagonally across from me, dahlia's were always a mystery to me. my obsession with cold cases and shoulders led me to discovery of the case of the black dahlia, in which a young lady was chopped in half and left on the sidewalk, the case was so unique that it was named, "black dahlia", despite dahlia's being pink and black dahlias not being existent, such a beautiful flower with a bad accoutrement.
it reminded me of delicious foods with horrible after tastes.
but i did in a way view myself as a dark dahlia as well, which is why they were my favorite flowers.
as i stepped into the flower path of dahlias of the day that changed my life, i bent down to grasp the dahlia within my hand and tug it from life, the floral grim reaper. ripping the souls and umbilical cords from flowers, made me feel as if all their green glory would somehow manifest itself into me, and i would someday bloom as a flower.
but actually, i was just killing cute flowers, it's not that deep.
i stared at the many wrinkly petals of the pink dahlia and felt them uplift the corners of my thoughts, the sweet essence of- "so you like dahlias?"
the strange voice of a person behind me, questioned.
my first instinct was to run but the comforting tinge within this person's voice peacefully disrupted my thoughts and i was not as bothered as usual.
with my back still turned i said with a sour smile, "marie antoinette, the last queen of france before the french revolution fell head over heels for dahlias when they first arrived in france, elizabeth short, a dead woman was given the nickname, the black dahlia," i took a short breathe, "however, despite the royal and poetic bloodline behind the dahlia, both these women's lives are tragedies, elizabeth short was murdered and mutated and the two parts of her body was left on the sidewalk of los angeles , and
marie was arrested for crimes against the French Republic and her life was taken away by a guillotine"
as i turned around to view the stranger of the day that changed my life, my heart was repeatedly stabbed by the shock waves hitting my mind, trying to get me to process who it was
my sweet anonymous, standing within one meter of me.
his eyebrow raised, indicating to continue, "so uh, you like daliahs right? they're a pretty flower, which is why it's a paradox due to its horrible relations", i said, "it's like poetry about finding beauty in murder held within a flower", i finished.
he laughed as he fiddled with the thick, silver ring on his finger, "you find pink flowers murderous, that's beautiful".
i smiled anxiously and quickly waved goodbye and ran away, out of the park of the day that changed my life before i said something stupid to him, before my knees caved in, before my life develops at the speed of sound, as well as my heart rate.
and as i walked away from the day that changed my life, something changed within me.
the phoenix rose within me, and i felt the reincarnation of my soul as i slipped away from that day.

//
; chapter one