DEIMOS
ache first, but then let the cuts close
spit out the blood
spit out the blood
The piercing angle of his gaze segmented into the crackling fire for a moment, lost a little in the potential of more ruin. The drums of war beat against his skull more often than not; slid down into the annals of his mind in dreams, recalled and remembered for their brutality, for their wrath, for their contempt, as swords swung and clashed, as everything fell to pieces. On her softer echoes, his stare flickered, and then fell to the floor, to hearths and quiet. Battle had always been the easiest option; peace and liberation all the more difficult for the political sways, for the ties of hissing adversaries and fickle, mercurial voids. Skirmishes and duels swept the tides in various directions, presented ultimatums, warnings, and omens that hadn’t been respected, that they’d meant what they’d said with every fiber of their beings.
That when one peeled him away, layer by layer, he’d always been destruction and demolition. Underneath the loss, the hurt, the shame, were the nefarious regions of his bones and veins, of his savage tissue and muscle, where the sinew pervaded and presided in pernicious persuasion. Where he’d been taught from an early age how to howl and bellow and then silently lacerate each and every void.
And for all its horrors and terrors, he was still drawn to the vehemence and violence. It was a part of him as much as the mischief, as much as the sea, as much as the mountains. His smile was slower, half-inclined into nothingness, a shrug of his shoulders; but he knew what she meant. “Likewise.” At one another’s backs; defensive, obliterating beasts and fathoms.
At her acceptance and chiding though, his eyes widened, and the juvenile smirk caught along his mouth once more. “I did not think this one counted.” Space for a refuge, for opportunities of collection and repose, weren’t so difficult to obtain. He’d just known and understood she’d want a safer void, after the one she’d just departed. “Starting now then.” Starting now he’d stop granting and giving until he’d emptied out his heart and soul, and watched it all dissipate into nothing.
Then he rose from his chair, both Zuriel and Belial (despite the scratches and pats) taking the sign of movement and motion as an opportunity to rampage towards the apartments. Mentally he was done in for the day; the guards would be finishing up by now anyway, and there was not much more to be completed that couldn’t wait until the morning. “I can show you,” and without waiting, he picked up his glass and crossed over parlors and beyond war tables.
That when one peeled him away, layer by layer, he’d always been destruction and demolition. Underneath the loss, the hurt, the shame, were the nefarious regions of his bones and veins, of his savage tissue and muscle, where the sinew pervaded and presided in pernicious persuasion. Where he’d been taught from an early age how to howl and bellow and then silently lacerate each and every void.
And for all its horrors and terrors, he was still drawn to the vehemence and violence. It was a part of him as much as the mischief, as much as the sea, as much as the mountains. His smile was slower, half-inclined into nothingness, a shrug of his shoulders; but he knew what she meant. “Likewise.” At one another’s backs; defensive, obliterating beasts and fathoms.
At her acceptance and chiding though, his eyes widened, and the juvenile smirk caught along his mouth once more. “I did not think this one counted.” Space for a refuge, for opportunities of collection and repose, weren’t so difficult to obtain. He’d just known and understood she’d want a safer void, after the one she’d just departed. “Starting now then.” Starting now he’d stop granting and giving until he’d emptied out his heart and soul, and watched it all dissipate into nothing.
Then he rose from his chair, both Zuriel and Belial (despite the scratches and pats) taking the sign of movement and motion as an opportunity to rampage towards the apartments. Mentally he was done in for the day; the guards would be finishing up by now anyway, and there was not much more to be completed that couldn’t wait until the morning. “I can show you,” and without waiting, he picked up his glass and crossed over parlors and beyond war tables.
watch your body pull itself back together
then let your soul do the same
then let your soul do the same
