Fallen Angel
A fallen angel tossed from heaven like a raindrop in a violent storm, as though the hand of god hurled her towards the earth in blind fury. Beautiful and ephemeral. The elemental force given by the laws of the universe crush insignificant attempts to fight gravity. The darkness consuming her only seems to brighten her silver lining by contrasting what is inside with her glossy external shell, a mirror for light, the chalk outline of a soul. A hidden memory, a little lost time, bargained futures, the stairway down to hell more desirable than fading from your own mind. You numb it again, completely aware that your repetition will define you. A life that became only the shadow of existence. Yet a moment of locked eyes ignites a blinding spark of stunned warmth that melts the pressure of existence. The colored glass panes that your soul hides behind lose their color and you can finally see beyond. The person in front of you is embossed on the texture of the world, like raised text in a book of poetry. Only realizing you were not aware of where you were until the pressure returns as sudden as waking from a vivid dream. You would happily trade all of your possessions to return, if just for a second or two. Did I only see what I wanted or was the mirror just reflecting my own light?