khadyjatt
- Reads 3,665
- Votes 130
- Parts 22
BOOK TWO IN THE HOUSEWIVES SERIES
Disquiet Ardor
Her name is Lailarh.
The girl who laughs like her ribs never caved in,
Who spins joy from ashes
Not because life's been kind,
But because she mastered the art
of smiling with a broken jaw.
From the outside, she's sunlight
But inside?
She's a room where the curtains never part,
Where memories hide under the bed
like monsters too real to name.
Touched too early
Not with love, but with silence.
Molested by shadows she couldn't outrun,
Yet they called her "strong."
As if survival was a medal,
Not a scream trapped in her throat.
Then came him
The boy with everything,
Except peace
He wore swagger like armor,
But he was drowning in powders and pills
Chasing numb in alleyways lit by pain
He never trusted love.
Said it was a myth they sold in movies.
But her laugh
It made him believe for a second
They met like wildfires
Sparks
Smoke
Chaos that felt like home.
But two broken mirrors can't reflect a full picture
So they clashed
Beautifully
Disastrously
She wanted healing
He wanted escape
She needed space to breathe.
He needed something stronger than air.
And yet
Somewhere between the bruises and boundaries,
The highs and goodbyes,
There was... something.
Not quite love
Not quite ruin
Just disquiet ardor.
A kind of fire that doesn't warm
But still burns real
Her name is Lailarh
And she's not your savior
Not your victim
Just a girl
Trying to bloom
With haunted roots.