After Seven, Seventeen, Two-Thousand And Twenty-Two (Poem)
TW WARNING: harsh vocabulary, mentions of sexual content, cursing
After that time I realized how short of invincibility I had and how much I actually had compared to what I thought I did. After July the seventeenth, two-thousand twenty-two I was no longer Bela. I was no longer Babbs, Bel, or even Yzzi. After that, I was Ysabel, a girl that none have met but all were afraid of. Ysabel was the name I wrote officially as the name on my homework, it was the signature I signed on papers and the name my parents bought me at birth, and it was a branded name that people’s tongues used if you didn’t know me. Nobody knew this mystery girl and she was such a mystery that even I barely recall her over my body. Well, she’s back now, and I remember why she was petrifying. She seduced, she cheated and lied, she built everyone a wall of china as a bond just to flick her finger and everything tumbles down. She doesn’t cry, no, she laughs at the hurt, because she knows that she’d rather laugh than rain at her own pain. She doesn’t shake as much as Bel does, and she doesn’t hesitate as well as he does. she carries a machete disguised as a bouquet of flowers behind her back. Ysabel didn’t do one-nighters, and if she did it didn’t affect her as much as it did others. In a way, she was confident, the ego artificial but it seemed so real people would talk behind her back, but she didn’t give two sh!ts. She wasn’t aware of her safety, but she didn’t need to when she fought too hard for someone to just come up to her, so that was another reason why she f^cked people and did one-night stands just to not look back. People would constantly ask her if she remembered the night before, but her trauma was the reason she didn’t remember anything, not even a person’s touch. Bel just started remembering, and he feels guilt more than anything, and feels emotion with everything, while she only felt emotion through her body, through s3xual touch, if I have to be frank. All she had to live for was the hunger in her chest and the want in her hands. To her, lust was love. To her, she loved lust but never lusted anyone enough to love them. she came out after Seven, Seventeen, Two-thousand-and-twenty-two. Ysabel also apologized a lot, because if she didn't she would feel Bel's presence, and she hated Bel more than anyone else, maybe more than her birth giver
Edited by Babbaline
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