'Them' By June_L

'Them' by June_L

Posted with Permission

ARCANE // ACT 1 →  ACT 3 

Jayce calling Viktor his partner.

Coffin Mother - A poem.

I was born with splinters poking out I was held in bloodless arms My mother bore me skin and bone But she was a box, and never a home My mother's kisses were dusty and dry My mother's door rusted shut I am new and unaware of you How my father was a victim too There is only one way coffins show love There is an inevitability about it Submitting to the grave is your only one true fate and her chest cavity is beckoning you're late from dust to dust we always return at any moment you could strike to hold me sing me a lullaby while you take my life Death mother keep me safe You've kept me trapped from the sky burred under shrouds of darkness and dirt Like a blanket over my world to deny you is to open my eyes I break your fragile lid and rip your hinges Torn away I cast parts of you aside I crawl with my dead hands through the earth above until a rumored heaven breaks open my brown sky Light and colors fill my vision, the air is not stale my lungs sting and my muscles ache I was not built for standing, walking 6 feet below I can hear howling curses of forgiveness; "This transgression could be forgiven You've had your fun, now come down from there The pain you caused, the body you've broken All that you've abandoned in the home I've built Just try to use the muscles I raised you with I knew you weren't ready for this Come sleep on my chest and let the cold soothe you Everyone has to die eventually." Coffin mother I hate you the ultraviolet burns my malnourished skin There is wood in my lungs, skin, hair Headboards feel like tombstones, Bouquets are mournful Coffin mother I miss you walking on my own with these unused legs makes me yearn for the embrace of sleep laying down in you to turn my brain off Coffin mother I don't love you But I do, in the way you love starvation after awhile Recovery can't stop my memories of enjoyment the high I chased of emptiness you gave I won't ever return to you, I'll blow my ashes in the wind, and you can die with whatever scars my freedom cost. Nobody is coming to fix the hole I punched through you to reach the sky. I can't remove the dirt from my nails or the splinters permanently in my blood. But you can't catch me to engulf my soul in it anymore. I don't care if I'm a dead thing among men. I will die with more life than I was born with. Despite you and your version of the world.

Hell, even HANNIBAL THE CANNIBAL LECTER knows to hug his children or people, to comfort and hold them, when they are displaying signs of emotional vulnerability. And my fucking parents WON'T. I'm so scared they are going to ruin me. Guys, I'm falling apart. I don't want my family that I was given. Its not fair.

I really do feel like Hannibal would fix me. He would help me be my full self (both good and bad, but unapologetically) and finally I would find peace, comfort, safety, and belonging. I would be healthier and safer. I'm sad.

People who have regular body heat don't experience cold the way we do. They apparently have this little heater inside of them that just, keeps their blood and internal organs comfy all the time. Being "cold" to them is just a chill on their skin. "If you're still cold after the first layer, put another layer on!" That doesn't work if you don't have the body heat to warm up those layers!!! it's just cold fabric on top of cold fabric on top of cold fabric on top of cold skin on top of cold fat on top of cold muscle on top of cold bones.

Then of course, even if there are FINALLY enough layers to make our skin warm. That does not mean it will make our bones warm. I could have an electronically heated blanket on me, and start sweating from it, and STILL BE COLD because it takes a lot of time for any amount of heat to pierce the surface level of my body & warm me in any ways that matter. So yeah, anytime you're interacting with somebody who doesn't have temperature regulation issues, and they offhandedly mention that they love the cold, just be aware they are never ever talking about our kind of cold. the kind that feels like an uphill battle. They're talking about something completely different and unique to them and their little internal heater. something some of us may never experience because we're always trapped in that fight with the air around us.

So like what are the lore implications of Princess and the frog being a story in the story