Broken Music Box

My body turns to flesh again. Skin pale but not as pale as it could be, a miracle to say the least. The music starts and sunlight kisses my skin, warm like the homemade hot cocoa that my mother used to make for me on a chilly winter night.

Without a moment’s notice, I feel my feet begin to move, returning to the point in which I left off last time, returning to my everlasting dance. My body falls into a rhythm, one that comes just as effortlessly to me as breathing is to mankind. One. Two. Three. Four. One. Two. Three. Four.

My pointe shoes gently rub against the marble floor, in time with the soft music. Up, down, up, down. I extend my arm, as if I’m trying to grab something just out of reach. Maybe freedom, maybe a past life. A cold, smooth hand seizes me at my waist, stopping me from running any further, reminding me that this was my fate.

I prance like an antsy fawn, spinning in a pirouette, around and around, willing myself to flee from his grasp, to keep on going, to spin away and never come back. Yet somehow, I find myself back in his possession, his cold hands grazing my back, sending shivers down my spine.

I no longer resent him like I used to. The muffled words and screams of encasement, of a pain called betrayal have long disappeared. Time has worn on me, molded me into an old, tired soul in a young body.

He turns me around to face him, forcing us to meet eyes. Mine are sad and tattered, his stony and dead. He dips me. My skin is freakishly pale, yet still warm against his. In that moment, I wish my skin could turn white, my eyes dead, and my soul freed.

Amy Li

He guides me towards the spotlight, taunting me, so graceful, so flawless, yet so artificial. He kneels, reaching for my hand to plant a kiss. I pull away, resisting the torture that’s imprisoned me.

How can you love a stone man? A thief without a hint of warmth left in his heart. One that has never loved you back and stripped you away of everything you had until you’re nothing but an empty, incomplete mess.

I desperately hold on to the last strands of my dignity, refusing to accept the stone man who trapped me here. Two lovers’ souls confined in a music box, one that turned cold. Another yearning for him to love her again. A promise I hold close to myself, a promise long broken: My love, you will never receive, even if you’ve taken everything away.

A kiss, my love, I gave.

A heart, my love, you took.

A life, my love, you stole.

And I, my love, endured. He wraps his arms around me in something resembling love, yet I know he doesn’t feel it in his heart. His eyes flicker for just a moment, and I swear I can see the last spark of life in that deep cerulean. Both terrified fear and a glimmer of hope cross my heart at once. And then it’s gone, faster than the flap of a hummingbird’s wing. It’s these moments that stop my heart from turning into stone. That keeps my soul tied to this box, forever in this beautiful pas de deux on the edge of death.

I see the daylight start to wane, slowly shrinking into a sliver of light. Sadness becomes my smile, and I fade away into the darkness, turning back into stone, until sunlight may bless

Everything is Amplified at Night