𝑆𝐼𝑁𝑁𝐸𝑅𝑀𝐴𝑁

𝙰 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙳𝚈 𝙸𝙽 𝙲𝚄𝚁𝚂𝙴𝚂 :// 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙿𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙸        𝙸𝙼𝙼𝙾𝚁𝚃𝙰𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈  

imagine it —- nine years old. scared, alone, panicked. grasping to soft yellow feathers as your beloved bird leads you to safety. you should have stayed behind, should have helped. everyone else did. boys your own age, children. but you, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃, you fled to safety while rivers & ponds ran crimson with the blood of your family, friends, elders. not your fault, little one, but there is no honour in running away. didn’t your father teach you better? a traitor to your own homeland. how does it feel? 

run boy, run. fly away from the darkness & with each step, you walk into a trap. pass that threshold; you’ve left your bird behind, boarded the boat. you almost don’t make it across the water —- it’s a miracle that you do. didn’t you drown? the water filled your lungs, you remember how it felt to die. you met the gods & they spoke to you in a language you couldn’t quite make out … a vivid dream. you’re on the shore now, the sun beating down on you without mercy. why should it have mercy on you, boy? the traitor. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃. the gods want you to burn. 

’i was only a child,’ said once and never again. now you’re a child on the streets of an unknown city. dirty, starving, desperate. full of fight, full of fire. where was that fire when it was needed most? you throw your fists at anyone who looks at you wrong, but you wouldn’t dare fight for your own home? you’ve been battered, bruised, starved —- but you’re still alive. you’ve seen death on more than one occasion, but it never lingers. always out of reach, never to be grasped by the hands of the undeserving. the hands of 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐃. the gods want you to suffer with the seeds of guilt that cling to the inside of your ribcage, and as you grow older & older, those seeds blossom more & more.