△ so reisz when are you gonna use the L word in front of your husband. wait they cant hear me theyre running around in a library- (cups my hands around my mouth) REEEEEI when are you gonna tell your husband you LOOOOOVE HIIIIIIIM
Your nightmares have once more risen a tad too high, it seems. Intrusive voices again? Hm...
There's no one with you here – not the thing, not the pilot, not the cat, not any bonefolder. It's just you loitering atop the shelves, losing track of time. It has been a while since you've last heard your own voice. Since you last managed to get some sleep, too. Perhaps you could lull yourself into a dreamless nap if you talked. Talking tires. And nightmares make you remember.
You breathe in slow, part your lips very slightly and shape your exhale into words in continuous susurration.
i would give him lethean tea
(You breathe in, sigh out.)
lethean tea, viric, irrigo.
dive in deep inside and prune
out every bit of pain, mine and beyond,
mend the scars in body and mind,
lethean tea, viric, irrigo,
and all the pawns at my beck and call,
the best cover identity one could make,
and leave him. leave him to wake
in a nice house, with nice staff
and many books, and a piano, and,
and that gothic furniture he likes,
and absolutely no perfect mirrors,
leave him a new and normal life.
i could leave and remake it so
(You blink tiredly, you breathe in...)
lethean tea, viric, irrigo,
to fix everything i could
and there is a lot i could
(and let out a single joyless laugh.)
You breathe in– you stop and blink. You remember.
You turn on your side, whistle a spark on your itchy, darkened, numb fingertips. Talking tires. You don't feel like revisiting this anymore. The fire is gone.
7/10. It's not like they don't want to talk about it– they already said what they had to say. It's just not pleasant to repeat it.
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
titsay
ellievsbear
kianamaiart
germansingergirl
