[The people on this island shine brighter than all the stars in the sky. There's a beautiful spark that flickers in the kind souls around her. Sometimes she sees it in their eyes, when they smile her way. Sometimes from their words that make her think, if only for a second, that she's safe. That she's okay. That give her some reprieve from the wild ride her mind takes her on. She said those words hoping he would hold them in his heart. Maybe understand an ounce of the gratitude she feels towards him, but he turns them around-
Like the elves, he looks and really tries to see her. Whatever value he finds inside her, it's beyond the reach of lab results printed sheets of paper clipped to the edge of her bed. They used to want her value in numbers-Guzma doesn't look for that. The elves don't either.
The sheer force of her joy is almost overwhelming and it makes her fiddle with the fringe of her shirt. Because she's happy. She can't sit still. Can't stop the smile from spreading across her face at the me too said so casually. Like he's said this to her before. Like he'll keep saying it to her. Like she matters for who she is.
There's nothing else she wants to do or say. Her normal reaction is to get up from this monthly dream after making sure their local god is okay. Because she wants to wake up and play and-
Stand by the side of a man who looks at her with kind eyes and who pulls treasure from his pockets to make her happy. By two elves, who let her sleep in the corners of their tent. By a person with sky colored skin who sings with her. By a talented cat who teaches her to whistle. By a child who likes loud and quiet surprises alike. By the innumerable people who reach out to her. By-
She wants to wake from the dream, eventually, but for awhile longer, she prefers to stay like this. When she's unable to wake up anymore, she hopes the last image she sees is a kind man like this. Hopes he'll repeat nice words like me too, because of the simplicity of what he says doesn't devalue the meaning. She can hear it.
Without another word, she sits by his side and softly hums. There are no lyrics. No indication of any significance behind the quiet, nonsensical tune. Nothing to distinguish the-
Thank you.
But it's there. And she thinks he might hear come from her heart one day.]
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Like the elves, he looks and really tries to see her. Whatever value he finds inside her, it's beyond the reach of lab results printed sheets of paper clipped to the edge of her bed. They used to want her value in numbers-Guzma doesn't look for that. The elves don't either.
The sheer force of her joy is almost overwhelming and it makes her fiddle with the fringe of her shirt. Because she's happy. She can't sit still. Can't stop the smile from spreading across her face at the me too said so casually. Like he's said this to her before. Like he'll keep saying it to her. Like she matters for who she is.
There's nothing else she wants to do or say. Her normal reaction is to get up from this monthly dream after making sure their local god is okay. Because she wants to wake up and play and-
Stand by the side of a man who looks at her with kind eyes and who pulls treasure from his pockets to make her happy. By two elves, who let her sleep in the corners of their tent. By a person with sky colored skin who sings with her. By a talented cat who teaches her to whistle. By a child who likes loud and quiet surprises alike. By the innumerable people who reach out to her. By-
She wants to wake from the dream, eventually, but for awhile longer, she prefers to stay like this. When she's unable to wake up anymore, she hopes the last image she sees is a kind man like this. Hopes he'll repeat nice words like me too, because of the simplicity of what he says doesn't devalue the meaning. She can hear it.
Without another word, she sits by his side and softly hums. There are no lyrics. No indication of any significance behind the quiet, nonsensical tune. Nothing to distinguish the-
Thank you.
But it's there. And she thinks he might hear come from her heart one day.]