Fallen Angels
They said I was to be cast out, for being an outcast is no different than to be a cold breeze you wish not to touch. All that was spoken but not heard I saw through others eyes. It hurt, like a dagger sheathed into my chest. Pulling on my heartstrings until I bled out. Why must all good things come to an end? Was it my appearance? Personality? The things that make me; me aren’t what people want to see.
The harsh wind colliding across my skin reminds me of what they must think of me. Mindless. Not pure. A washed-out useless piece of space. A passing fancy, with once beautiful features is now being tossed out. For ones Beauty is measured not by your own perception but by others. The ground hit my skin face still staring to where I used to be, up in the stars. I never wanted this.
Feathers cascaded around my seemingly lifeless body. Wings torn, broken and useless as the rest of me. No one ever wanted me, as if all I was ever meant to do was to be thrown out. Adding to the pile of broken things people don’t want. Rubbish. No one ever wants to be judged and yet we all seem to rule what is wrong or right about a person.
Was there anything after this moment or was I cursed to stare up at the heavens wishing for another chance. To change into something others wanted around. We all try and live to the expectations of others never thinking of ourselves. I was snuffed out. A fake. A poser. Two-faced. The layers were shed, split apart until the best parts of myself were among of what I hate the most. It’s opinion’s that get you noticed, it’s what separates you from others and what gets you tossed out. In a community of perfect beings there will always be something not so perfect. It’s hidden inside of us. Rising to the surface until nothing can stop it.
My hands coated themselves in ash suddenly noticing the sore line I was on was coal. It’s dark here. Only soft notes above could be heard. It haunted my eardrums, thumbing a rhythmic sound. They were rejoicing my absence but the light faded. Unblinking I laid down still waiting. It was the last glimpse of light I was given.
For the fallen ones weren’t allowed to be looked upon. They were above us in every way, bright beautiful angels with wings so stunning people fall to their knees in tears seeing the excellence of each feather.
I was once beautiful like them. A shining light that people follow into the darkest corners remaining hopeful. Now with blackened hands and broken wings, I wandered the abyss. Not searching but thinking of what was and what I wasn’t. Everything was once filled with happiness and light but now with tired feet, I started fading away. Merging into the dark void to join the others. I heard them calling out to me, whispering illegible murmur’s. No matter how much you search nothing was to be seen. It was as if my eyes were sewn shut. I was tired, so tired. Had any time passed? Had I managed to move at all? The voices got louder but in their screams I was calm. It was for the best, for once someone wanted me. Perhaps this was a mercy of the Angels knowing where I should be.
With arms stretched out wide, I let the darkness consume me. Removing the remainder of feathers dragging along behind me. There was no pain or suffering. I just faded away, memories lifting from my body. Memories are what create personality, which was taken from me. Nothing mattered anymore, from the moment I was tossed from the heavens everything changed and I would never be the same.
Now I waited for angels like me, ones who aren’t meant for anything but to be thrown out; for it’s not falling that hurts but the landing. I am a fallen angel.