DEIMOS
the fire can't touch me
for I have burned too many times
for I have burned too many times
Nothingness, no movements or motions stirred save for coiling in tighter on herself. He’d hoped for something to salvage, to do, rather than meander out into the unknown – not to fix, but to help. But he wasn’t, and never would be, the type to conduct feelings accords, checks, or balances; and wouldn’t think to provide any advice (his preferred method of smothering it down and forgetting it existed not a healthy method). The sentiments, the quiet, the brooding, brimming surfaces made him restless, because they weren’t familiar, or his own ghosts, demons, wraiths, and phantoms.
Armor not for him, but for herself then, to guard calamity away from the void, to slip out of the irreverence, the soullessness? He wondered just how far this argument with Remi had gone, if there were other notions intertwining amongst the ether, if moments beyond choices, declarations, and calamity had been shared. Failures, losses, and devastation wrecked and ruined – he could recall days upon days where they’d done naught but laugh amidst the lands, and now they were here, on another molten precipice.
She snapped again, and he ignored the press of nettles and thorns, shaking them off and out of skin when the anger curled around the room. Instead, he moved the plate of food out of the way, allowing it to join its brethren on the end table, pondering his next motion. He moved back towards the headboard and propped pillows, and then stretched long arms, to snag, to grab, to hold, and pull her into his chest. Liberation presided still – she’d be able to evade, escape, and he almost expected her to. But it was meant to be for comfort, to uncoil, unfurl, or tuck away, further and further.
Did feelings ever go away?
“Okay.” Resignation for a moment, while he pondered, dug in. “If he were here, what else would you say to him?”
Armor not for him, but for herself then, to guard calamity away from the void, to slip out of the irreverence, the soullessness? He wondered just how far this argument with Remi had gone, if there were other notions intertwining amongst the ether, if moments beyond choices, declarations, and calamity had been shared. Failures, losses, and devastation wrecked and ruined – he could recall days upon days where they’d done naught but laugh amidst the lands, and now they were here, on another molten precipice.
She snapped again, and he ignored the press of nettles and thorns, shaking them off and out of skin when the anger curled around the room. Instead, he moved the plate of food out of the way, allowing it to join its brethren on the end table, pondering his next motion. He moved back towards the headboard and propped pillows, and then stretched long arms, to snag, to grab, to hold, and pull her into his chest. Liberation presided still – she’d be able to evade, escape, and he almost expected her to. But it was meant to be for comfort, to uncoil, unfurl, or tuck away, further and further.
Did feelings ever go away?
“Okay.” Resignation for a moment, while he pondered, dug in. “If he were here, what else would you say to him?”
the sea can't harm me
for I have been drowning all my life
for I have been drowning all my life
