#goditsmesam

if you'll give me a crown, better make it a good one. a heavy one. ~ I've had thorns and I've had knives, and I've had the cries of broken souls, free from their chains. if you'll give me a crown, have it make me remember all of these, so that I'll be grateful I'm not among them anymore. ~ I've seen hell indeed, felt it with my flesh and my bones, and it was cold, an absence of all that may disturb its broken poetry. I've been in hell. I've been hell. ~ so if you'll give me a crown, make it a heavy one, make it an icy fort - so that it might rein me in, and not turn this land into the only one I can remember anymore.

risen from hell, and yet he is not the lightbringer. * risen from grave, and he is not lazarus. * he is not a saint, or even completely sane, he is not completely anything, a burning man with the burning heart, burning arm, and burning wish to see the one he's clawed back up for. * no divine help lifted him, not really, just pure need. where lucifer brought rage and hatred, he managed to win with only one word: sam. he wanted sam. he needed sam. so back to sam he went. * with singlemindedness of a devil, stubborness of a mountain, hunger of a starved beast, he has risen. (those in the way, beware)

for having someone to be silent with, I am thankful. for having someone to breathe with, I am thankful. for giving me back strong enough to carry the one who's the most important on, I am thankful. for giving my loved one a heart big enough for me to hide in, I am thankful. for giving me life, and giving him life too, and giving us to one another to live it ~ I am thankful.

doilycoffin replied to your post

16 + Wincest?<3

when the skies finally stopped screaming and the monsters prowling from our eyes gorged themselves on their starry ruin as much as on our taste, our blood and tears mixed together, I could’ve sworn that was it. * [if I kidnap you, and bury us both six, sixty feet under, would you feel less guilty for abandoning your duty? just whisper the word.] * just how far is far enough? how much is too much? we've crossed that line so long ago I hardly remember the last time we were asked for our consent. (your skin over mine doesn't count, we were always a separated whole.) * let the soil have us at last, and soon. the earth can't afford us roaming it much longer.

it was supposed to be a good colour, a nice one. the colour of memories, when old age barrs the body from doing anything similar again. * the colour of wishful thinking. wishful thinking. the irony. * whereas anyone else will always first think about the ocean, the white beaches and too expensive drinks, once again we have to be different. I have to be different. * wishful thinking, indeed. and yet, from the whole mess I can only remember the blank look, bland taste of my name in your mouth, and the colour. when you finally woke me up. [once you saved me] * those damned azure eyes taught me a lesson, yes they did. every wish has its price, and some prices are just too high to pay.