her guilty greys spoke millenia
of catastrophy and destruction. her shattered soul and tattered mind
granted shifty eyes and unsteady feet
to her lean physique.

nothing smiled quite like her in the courtroom. if ants could taste the sickly sweet scents dripping down her lips, they'd infest her entire body.

a tear on her marbled cheek ran away from her lazy eyelids like grass runs from the wind. the tear would not bow to her unending sorrow, but it was aware that it would not be missed if it disappeared.

her guilty greys were on fire in the courtroom. a wild forest fire. she was her very own arsonist. oh she basked in the burns it blessed her with. the jurors didn't know of the flames they were being consumed by (mercilessly, i might add). their bodies were too plain and too close-minded to see the in-between like a guilty grey's creation. she liked that. she liked that she was the only one who could see her own faulty destruction.

monochromatic themes, paranormal and sweet. hathi married it eons ago, when a fairy tale was merely gossip amongst the curious whispers of a neighbor.

in shackles, drenched in shame and jeers from her spectators, hathi stood proud at the prisoner's box like a mountain peak.

a smile danced a ballet across her bright pink lips, two crescent moons waxing upwards. her guilty grey eyes glittered gold dust as she opened her mouth. coughs spilled from her ashen lungs and a warm, bright red trickled down her neck.

but that would not take her voice away.

hathi would talk guilty grey until the day she died.