the lullaby
i don't want the world to see me,
because I don't think they'd understand
because I don't think they'd understand
It's a thick darkness that Remi has fallen into. Some blacks are soupier than others, some greasier, and some more pleasant. This one is filled with things that bump and stir, voices that wordlessly and soundlessly whisper like papercuts made against silk. There is no mind with which to think, no cogito ergo sum that recognizes that this is the closest to death that he's ever been. There is no he; just skin shredded into ribbons over bones that don't deserve anything more than a strong kick.
Remi lived, he loved, he made too many mistakes for which he couldn't atone, and now he isn't going through the motions of dying so much as they're going through him. His lips are blue, his skin pale save for where bruises flower outwards not unlike the rest of the flora in the desert, or where blood has dried to a colour lighter than black.
Remi lived, he loved, he made too many mistakes for which he couldn't atone, and now he isn't going through the motions of dying so much as they're going through him. His lips are blue, his skin pale save for where bruises flower outwards not unlike the rest of the flora in the desert, or where blood has dried to a colour lighter than black.
when everything's meant to be broken,
i just want you to know who I am
i just want you to know who I am
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
