#hellatusnetwork

I have made myself a scar collector. I carry the scorch mark of your grip on my shoulder and the stardust of your wings across my skin. The inprints of your feathers crawl beneath my veins and when my blood rushes through them I swear I can hear that "voice of an angel" they talk about in all those movies and books. I swear I can hear the sky in your looks. Loving an angel is messier than I thought, a very pure kind of unclean. It's like loving a galaxy and feeling like you're nothing but a dying star imploding in a mess of feather inprints that are always on my skin. A very heavenly kind of unclean. I have made myself a scar collector but I feel no pain nor remorse. I wear my scars with pride and regret not a single one. Loving an angel is messy and chaos cosmic impotence and repented sin. Oh God, if this is messy, then I don't want to be clean.