Sunnanvind

My skin is green and my tears are blue and my mind is red with what boils inside...

Another christmas fanfiction about the ninja turtles.

Raph was sitting on the train and he was slowly evaporating to the nirvana that he had so long sought. As a child, he had his spears on the outside; but now; as he was leaving the nest the nest the nest the nest where he and his brothers had faced the Foot. Now he was evaporating to a state of freedom; of being able to say what he wanted.

If you are covered in Razors; you can dive in the barrel of string without fear of being caught and held; but that lack of held, of hugs is so cold and even if you were melting in the rays of the truth, perhaps it is not so wise to stand alone :: you stand alone :: to be isolated in the dark in the park when the black dogs bark. Being tangled is being warm; and even if the brothers slowly lead to your death; by strangulation choking melting melting::: having a heart is better than to have none.

Raph; you have the one-ended spears to protect your soft inside like a ballerina dancing the kung-fu; like the arms of fire and scalding soot around the drawing coal.

Even when Raph had been climbing for hours he was untired but his mind was humming and it wouldn't go no no no no no it stays.

The evil men that had attacked the nest when they were just children... Leo had seen them as the evil necessary for the honorable war. Raph had just seen them as cannon fodder; no, he didn't mean that; they were the blame to blame to not show love.

Raph was now a bitter old shrew; so trapped in the role of the knife.. he was the sai-flinger; the knifethrower, the footstabber.

So when he saw Dons ears he spilled his guts and left to go on the TRAIN the train to evaporation. He listened silently (no shriekingly) to the ggggg of the tracks and the iron wheels. His head was bursting and he had no mad love.

To be on the silent (no the shrieking) meditation was to sit and grow into the role - was he on a role-ercoaster?

He had no brothers and no rat-god

He had no past and the future was horrible = it gave him daring looks.

A rolling stone gathers no moss but he had moss and it was his loved ones and he had strings that choked him and may he return?

Will the other three green ones like him as the new, no the old melted stale dead still angry red saithrower?

He would not wake anymore but would he fall into the shallow grave of solitary or would he ditch his anger and find mad love?

He read some books by Elson where he was unangry and no one - will that become him?

Or will it become the sun that has no spots and no light?

For in his solitude he was the fool on the hill; but he wanted to become the king that could dance the figure dance.

The rain has gone away the rain has gone away so maybe he was the turtle that wasn't flawed? If he could tangle away his wound of fear!

Fear was his wound = = = = fear of breaking the jewel inside the rock.

In breaking the rock the jewel would it hold it is old can it break the mold?

So he decided to test his might and lay down his arms. He threw out his sais (element of prickle that would sting sting sting) and he bade his shurikens to sleep. This cause one of two things to happen and he never knew which was the truth and which was the dream.

See; being the Raph-of-no-hurt was a way to slow destruction, but to a meaningful life aswell. See; having the brothers as consolation would kill him but the death would not not not not not be in vain again here goes the rain. See; if he was to keep the sai of prickle; he would live for EVER but the life would be a lone on his own.

So he returned; ready for the life among the brothers without having the shurikens inside his mind.

When the news of their destruction reached him, he knew that this was the death of the no-hurt. This was what he had always feared.

I went forth in armored frame - but of fear the arm was cast, and of shame - Karin Boye

So without the armor his heart was soon struck with the daggers of feelings; but he knew...

He knew as he lay in his deep grave that he had had mad love.

©Sunnanvind Briling 1999 and forward (in the the improbable case of this page surviving the Y2K )
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