She’s never been anything other than lies.
Not even good lies, any type of lie will do.
(Each weapon is still a weapon, no matter how dull.)
They line her skin, gliding over each and every inch like live snakes, or maybe just the silk she often wears. Her smile…one kiss (one bite) and you’re paralyzed, trying to discern the overwhelming tide of beckoning lies from the solid body of reality underneath.
(Flying high over the world, the clouds obscuring any semblance of solid Earth below. It’s only a matter of time before someone goes splat.)
He was (and still is) made of soft things.
A duckling encased in a thin eggshell-
(How much longer until he breaks free?)
He had never known anything other than the calm safety of the familiar. When the world confronted him- now you must fly- he refused, and instead retreated back into her arms. She was the cocoon that never released and he struggled inside her encompassing bonds. Reflecting, she decides the solemn beauty of his baby blue eyes was what made her keep him as her own.
(He jumped, exhilarated when gravity guided him- his release and his demise all rolled into one. His legs snapped in three places when he hit the water, but his only regret in the hospital bed is that she wasn’t there to see his grand escape.)