[drabble] Supernatural: the woman in black

[kandai_suika]

Titre : the woman in black

Auteur : kandai_suika

Fandom : Supernatural

Personnages/Couple : Dean Winchester(/)Amara.

Genre : Angst, Poésie.

Rating : PG

Disclaimer : Eric Kripke.

Warning : Baiser/relation non consensuelle, contrôle mental.

 

Résumé : it's always about women in black.

 

Note : Originellement posté en décembre 2015.

Continuité : Se déroule pendant l'épisode O Brother Where Art Thou (11.09).

Taille : ~400

somehow, it feels your entire life
always come to this kind of scenario
(it’s the same old song, you know what they say about losers
and how their stories remains the same):

the passenger seat is empty and the radio is too loud
and there is a woman in black
alone in a field
and    she is kissing you.

(charred lips, always tasting ashes
and they weight on you like a coffin,
the shroud in which you were burned, once, twice, how many times)

they promise you – bliss, peace, all you ever wanted – but you know better, now
you always feel it on your tongue
the sweet, sour weight that comes with lies.
it’s a woman in black
(eyes, blood and black water in a stilted lake)
and     she is kissing you.

again.

it’s not the first kiss life has stolen from you
but it’s one of those things you can’t get used to it
(you wish you could. you wish it could make it easier);
now, death seems almost merciful
because   she is kissing you
and she taste like a burnt ceiling,
dirt and rot
served on a silver platter;
you would know the feeling.

and    she is kissing you
as they always do…

“make a deal, trade yourself away like you’re nothing more
than the dirt it took to bury you, once, twice, so many times-
i want you to come, they say, i want you to forget and take the knife
to believe your own lies
and fade away into oblivion
and for Earth to forget you ever existed.
i want to devour you, they always say, and you don’t know
what kind of rotten thing you carry in your soul
that makes them come running.”

(moths to a dark flame, the lot of them
and you’ll never get used to the feelings
of their lips
crushing your screams.)

funny (horrible, same twisted and dark tales that have become your life) how it always come to this:
a woman in black   kisses you
she leaves you alone in a field and your mouth aches;
bleeds in the midst of ashes she has left in there
and you can never tell if she left you unbroken
(mercy left in the stream of charred lips)
or if she took everything you had
with her.

(you’re already dead)

and that thing you can hear under your skin
(thump- thump-)
has never felt

  emptier.

(oh, you wish it was true)