equisite torture

"You believe yourselves immune to death? I bring you a gospel of oblivion. I bring you the Soulsword. Taste it and cease to be."

Does fate ever laugh? That the only time my heart knows love is when it isn't mine. Does fate ever laugh? That the only time my heart knows love is when hers is the name that beats in yours. Does fate ever laugh? That the only time my heart knows love is when the moon knows of only the color of her eyes, of the details of her laughter, and of her hair in sunlight. Does fate then laugh? That your torment is not ended by my touch. That your hunger is not sated by my lips. That your prayers are answered only if she smiled. Does fate laugh, do you think? That the only time my heart knows love is when it isn't mine.

There is rust on your body, but dusk air dances with you still. Do you mind the weight on your shoulder when it is not blown kiss? Do you feel loved in the morning when the only thing that touches you is gentle heat? You don't creak. But do you hurt, too, when the sun sleeps? And darling, have you ever seen the stars weep? I have. I have.

I’d let you. I’d beg even. Pry my ribs open with your bare hands. Let the red pool like wine, and drink. Depraved. Starved. Desiccated. I’d let you. I’d beg. I’d watch my heart beat against the palm of your hands, and weep because you’ve held it. I’d let you. Drive your knife in and twist. And I’d let you.

I would do it bloodied; With a fractured skull, And broken ribs. I would do it trembling; Winded and bruised, With burnt skin, and Busted lips. I would do it struck by lighting. If it is you. I would do it in death. If it’s you. If it’s you. I would. I would.

You would know, I think. There, tucked in the center. Ceaseless, silent; A living thing, reaching. You'd know, I think. If by look. Or by breath. By a wound. I'd let you pour salt on my open flesh if it meant you'd rub your hands across my body. You'd know, I think. An ache. A longing.

Ruined me, I tell you. RUINED! DESTROYED! CARNAGED! I am torn-up flesh, and spilt blood. I am death personified, Unromanticized. You have clawed me open Unapologetically. And I crawled back Bloodied. Take me in. Feed me. Love me. Then discard me Once again.

you stare at fluorescent lights and ugly white walls as a stranger rips the hair off your legs with hot wax

this is girlhood.

it makes you think of icarus

you wonder if he felt the hot wax dripping down his skin

if he felt pain

if he even realised what was happening

you wonder if this is how you’ll go

in a flurry of

burning legs

weak and hairless

you flew too close to the sun and now you are falling

hot liquid gold

she asks you how old you are

you tell her you turn fifteen in one day

she wishes you happy birthday

and plucks the last hair from your leg like she’s skinning a chicken

happy birthday to you.

you don’t get used to the pain

each sting is

fresh

raw

at least icarus only fell once