i never have nightmares.
the lie smells like something burning  ,  chemicals and wood and ice  .  it smells like a boy left alone too long  ,  like sadness but not sadness  ,  something deeper  .  more tangible  .  like she could reach out and TOUCH  ,  if she tried  .
doesnât  .  how do you PUSH a boy who looks like he may snap in half at the slightest of presses  ?  cassandra  ,  with her harsh hands  ,  her armor skin  â  she knew the feel of a blade better than a warm touch  .  how was she supposed to help a boy with big eyes  ,  rabbit - fast gaze  ,  like he didnât know how to settle for too long  ?
â  i do  ,  sometimes  .  â   the threads of a gentle smile  ,  like sheâs trying to be open but doesnât quite know how to get it right  .  like sheâs trying to be as soft as she feels inside  ,  sometimes  ,  warm like a blossom before she plucks off the petals  ,  tucks them away  .    â  if you donât  ,  thatâs fine  ,  too  .  but i do  ,  sometimes  .  â   doesnât say  ,  sometimes  ,  the nightmares were real  ,  are real  .  sometimes i am never enough  .  sometimes i am too much  .  sometimes everyone is dead and i am carrying the knife  .  sometimes everyone is dead and i couldnât save them  .  sometimes i touch the darkness and it never leaves again  ,  even after i open my eyes  .
doesnât say it  .  she knows when too much is too much  .    â  having nightmares doesnât make you weak  .  you just have to try not to let them swallow you whole  .  theyâre just  â  bad dreams  .  â
                                                    // @oldcoronas !












