Palom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alittleblackmagic) wrote2009-12-31 12:07 am
alittleblackmagic) wrote2009-12-31 12:07 am
Twelfth Conflagration
[private, hackable to family and friends]
Sis . . .
You remember? When we were younger . . . Back when I first learned to walk. I'd almost got the hang of it, but I just couldn't stop myself from tumbling over and crashing into things all the time -- Of course, you'd managed it perfectly already. And even then, you'd already honed your 'Stop that Palom!' expression down to an art. But you held my hand. You didn't let me give up. So we did it . . . together. We've always done everything together . . . And you promised you would always be with me. I promised you the same thing.
So how . . . How am I supposed to manage this by myself, sis? How?
. . . You've gotta come back. P-Please . . . I can't. I can't do this alone. I can't! It's too hard. It's just too hard . . . Oh, sis! Why?! It's not fair . . . We're not supposed to go solo. Neither of us . . . We're not meant to be alone. We're twins. Black and white, night and day, yin and yang! Snap out of it, Porom! Wake up! Stop saying those things! You can't do this to me; you can't you can't you can't you can't you can't!
Porom! Porom Porom Porom don't leave . . . Don't leave . . .
Don't leave me alone, sis . . .
((Those in the park about an hour after this phone conversation would do well to avoid the little boy throwing a huge tantrum.))
Sis . . .
You remember? When we were younger . . . Back when I first learned to walk. I'd almost got the hang of it, but I just couldn't stop myself from tumbling over and crashing into things all the time -- Of course, you'd managed it perfectly already. And even then, you'd already honed your 'Stop that Palom!' expression down to an art. But you held my hand. You didn't let me give up. So we did it . . . together. We've always done everything together . . . And you promised you would always be with me. I promised you the same thing.
So how . . . How am I supposed to manage this by myself, sis? How?
. . . You've gotta come back. P-Please . . . I can't. I can't do this alone. I can't! It's too hard. It's just too hard . . . Oh, sis! Why?! It's not fair . . . We're not supposed to go solo. Neither of us . . . We're not meant to be alone. We're twins. Black and white, night and day, yin and yang! Snap out of it, Porom! Wake up! Stop saying those things! You can't do this to me; you can't you can't you can't you can't you can't!
Porom! Porom Porom Porom don't leave . . . Don't leave . . .
Don't leave me alone, sis . . .
((Those in the park about an hour after this phone conversation would do well to avoid the little boy throwing a huge tantrum.))
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