Discordia

There’s always fire.

I hear the sounds of the waves of the ocean crashing to shore. The salted air creates a hunger within me that can never be satiated. The night sky is filled with stars innumerable and I can see the galaxies swirl and spin. I fall to my knees in the sand, scraping my skin and breathing in salt and smoke and ash.

The world is always turning and I tremble from the motion. No wonder you’re always running from me. I am chaos. I am destruction. I put my hands in the water and it boils, angry, and the fire burns on. Moonlight scars, marking my skin, forever branding me as creature of the dark.

It always burns, the fire. I never really go out, do I? I smell like war. You could sense it, feel it in your fingertips when you ran your hands through my hair, you could feel my vibrations that I was created to fight.

I see everything. I am to blame. Why didn’t you warn me. You never warned me.

I’m a star ready to burst. Maybe it’s better than fading away.

I am the goddess of discord. You knew and you never warned me.

Keep running.

Everyone else does.