I, Girl

29 MOONLIGHT BEGGAR

one day i met a strange, strange creature.
they had blue, blue skies for skin and feathery wings for arms and a crooked beak for a mouth; there were holes on their otherworldly face where eyes ought to be and where hair ought to be was, instead, beams of light that languidly swayed in the air. my eyes drank in the scene before me; i found this creature to be magnificent, yet terrifying—alien but all too familiar— but whatever contradictory feelings i felt for this being was trumped by the big, growing feeling that this creature, this thing, was merely lost and alone.

as if detached from my body, my mouth moved on its own accord. "would you like to have my eyes?" i asked, my words dripping with care and sympathy. i raised my fingers and traced the pits of darkness that were dug into their features, marvelled at its hollowness. the silvery feathers on their wings ruffled in response and their ocean-like skin flushed with red, but what fear i might have once felt at such a sight was replaced by a feeling none other than wonder. with every second passing by i felt myself falling for this creature. i would have given them more than my eyes, if needed.

"no," the creature whispered, yet their beak did not open. the voice simply echoed in my head. "i would like your dreams instead."

"my dreams?" i replied, "but my dreams mean nothing."
they shuffled closer towards me, their wings slowly expanding to its full length, the moonlight shining on their feathers and making them sparkle. i was hypnotized with the creature's every move.
"dreams never mean nothing," they said, and suddenly i felt the soft, soft caress of their wings on my face, my chin, my neck—as soft and intimate as a lover's touch.
"if i were to see the world; if i were to see you; i would not need your eyes, but your dreams— for eyes are the mirror to one's soul, and what would a soul be without dreams?"
i paused, my heart weighed down with love and pain for the creature. and so i dug out my dreams and handed it to them. then they left.

the next day i met a lovely, lovely creature. they did not have the blue, blue skies for skin but rather a startling yellow that it was as if they undressed our very sun and wore its coat; they had brown, brown mountains for a head and where a heart ought to be was, instead, a large mass of darkness. my surprise for having seen such a weird yet fascinating creature melts into a familiar warmth. they floated about me like a passing cloud in the sky, airy and tentative—suddenly i found myself falling; i could not help but stare as i felt deeper in love still, with their starry eyes and venetian gondolas for lips. as if detached from my body, my mouth moved on its own accord. "would you like to have my heart?" i asked, my chest tight in pain for what a creature as lovely as they must be going through, living without a heart.
"no," the creature murmured, sadly smiling at me with stubs for teeth. flower petals poured through the gaps between their teeth. "not your heart, no—instead, i want your hope."

"my hope?" i replied, "but my hope means nothing."

the creature wrapped its pillowy arms around me, their touch as gentle as a mother's care. "hope never means nothing," they began, "if i were to feel everything; if i were to feel your touch; i would not need your heart, but your hope— for hope is what keeps the heart beating, and what is the heart without hope?"
i paused, and without further hesitation, i opened my chest cavity and handed them my hope. then they left.

the next day, i met a strange, strange creature. only this time, this creature did not fascinate me; their hideous form and terrifying visage did not make love bloom in my chest. their skin was like a thousand ships sunk, a thousand lands charred and left to waste, a thousand lives conquered and defeated. tragedy oozed from every pore and where their eyes ought to be was, instead, a frightening darkness that traumatized me to my very core, and where their heart ought to be was, instead, a pitch black abyss that screamed its emptiness to me. i felt deafened by the misery that shouted from this being.

"can you give it all back?" they whimpered, voice raspy, crack lips stained red. they limped towards me, and i staggered back.
"i don't have any thing," i whispered, and i did not feel pain, or sympathy, or pity or love—

instead i felt nothing.

as if detached from my body, my mouth moved on its own accord. i screamed—still i felt nothing. i cried—still i felt nothing. i ripped my torso to shreds for something that was not there, scratched my skin to ribbons and shred my flesh into thin leathery stripes for something that was simply not there. and then i left.