kameneva

Then she smiles, that small, shy one he loves.

"I like showing you my pieces."

He smirks slightly now.

"I know. You always watch my face when I read them."

She blushes.

Caught.

major tom: i am suspended between worlds

to tear a vow from flesh

in my misery, i found a peculiar companionship

the immortal man

I see her — this deity of soot and silk — and I wonder if I, too, have grown limbs no one can see. Arms to carry the children I never had. Arms to strike the fathers, I never forgave. A halo behind me, or a noose. I can't tell. She isn't monstrous. She's inevitable.

i do not fear her. I envy her.

the devoted

They said books were lifeboats, but I climbed in and drowned. The page is not paper—it is flesh, stretched tight over bones of thought. It sighs beneath the scalpel of the pen. I write, and something within it bleeds. And yet—there is beauty in this autopsy. There is heaven in the horror. The ink does not lie: it remembers everything I was too afraid to say aloud.

possession

i refuse to let go

you didn't know i was dying