πππ ππππππ πππ πππ ππππ.
βΊ prompts from rachel gillig's novel the knight and the moth (2025). feel free to tweak as you see fit , bartholomew.
β you donβt have to be good, or useful, for someone to care about you. β
β when you do the right thing for the wrong reason, no one praises you. β
β we all want to be special.β
β what is right and wrong depends entirely on the story youβre living in. β
β which is more intricate? the designs of men, trying to reach gods, or that of gods, trying to reach men? β
β people who love you for your usefulness don't love you at all. β
β you want to throw me down. β
β i, prideful, disdainful, godless. β
β i want to drag you into the dirt with me. β
β you know this story, (name,) though you do not remember it. β
β to tell a story is in part to tell a lie, isn't it? β
β it's hard to see who i am when i am lost in what's expected of me. β
β fear not, (name!) every day has its dog. β
β if you only ever look up at something, can you ever see it clearly? β
β it is easier, swearing ourselves to someone else's cause than to sit with who we are without one. β
β take my hand, you strange little creature. β
β it sounds awful when i say it out loud. β
β you are more special than you realize. β
β i would do anything for you. β
β i cannot decide which i like best. the sunrise, or the sunset. β
β i was losing my faith in everything. β
β the two of us meetingβ¦ it felt almost divine. β
β i think her quite the bitch. β
β did anyone see me fall? β
β i want someone to see me. β
β i want it to be you. β
β no honor among thieves, and even less among gods. β
β iβll do anything you ask of me. β
β if i were beside myself, there would be two of me β
β oh, (name.) he's dreamy. β
β do you want to know how it ends? β
β it ends when you kiss me. β
β why do we do these things to ourselves? β
β youβre an incomparable fiend, (name.) a truly accomplished asshole. β
β iβd like you better if you were on your back again. β
β it is not like me to be the bearer of bad tidings. β
β am i all that you imagined? β
β your hands are marked by the blood of my metamorphosis. β
β whatever my soul was made of was frail. β
β violence is a craft. so is compassion. β
β no is a sufficient answer. β
β anger is a fine weapon. β
β now have some soup. β
β i will shoulder any weight you give me. β
β would that things were different. β
β i think i would like to stop promising myself away, or else there will be nothing left of me to give. β
β i donβt know why i say the things i do. β
