#queenvexing

 the amount of shows i need to catch up with is...

omg i literally just did the same exact thing with l&o

“ i can tell by your smile you’re comin’ undone. “

                     i    don't   wanna    hurt    your    heart  ,   my   dear   /   but   if    i   gotta    cut    you  ,                        know   i   will   /    cause   i've   given   you   damn  near  every  chance  to  make  it                      possible    /   have   it   all   but   all    you   do   is   build   up    all   the    fears    and                        drown   us   in   your   tears                      but   i   pray   for   ya   ,   pray   for   ya    /   i'll    pray   ,   i'll   pray   ,  yeah   /   when                        all   this   pain   is   gone   /   when   all   this   blood   has   run

ANGST MEME || ACCEPTING

“ awwww, baaabbby. “ he bites down on his knuckle, cartoonish concern animating his sharp & unnatural features. he  h a t e s to see her this way. so down, so low. not right for a queen or a clown to look so in the dumps. drunk & depressed didn’t suit her. she needed to be smoothered in jewels & worshipped with hungry hands, loving lips, & showered in champagne laughter---every second she took breath.

he slides in next her. beside her but not overwhelming. he doesn’t want to scare her off---to push her even more over the edge, into doing something erroneously dangerous. “ i--i’m so.... sorry, honey. “ a rare apology as his shallow face is now crestfallen. darkended by shadows & his own shame. shaking hands hover just above her fragile & wounded form unsure of what to do. they want to touch and hold...but he knows he doesn’t DESERVE to. these same hands have HIT her once too many times before. 

so he sits there with a peculair frown flittering on the edges of vermillion lips, they part to speak words he doesn’t know he can say, revealing slivers of metallic canines. and so he stays...in this between state---lukewarm devotee. she’s his religion. but he doesn’t know who to choose. himself. or his queen-god.

tonight for the first time...he’s accutely aware of the DIRE state of his filthy filthy soul. he stares at her bleached & bruised skin...and it mirrors his sin. shows him who he really is--what---he really is...a MONSTER. 

how can a ----MONSTER, DEFORMITY, DEMON, BEAST----face the One he’s spat at ? cursed ? denied ? b e t r a y e d ? over and over and over again ? 

to be with her...was to be the SIN. the first sin. the worst sin. the pestilience of pride that leadeth to the fall. HIS fall---from the pedestal she put him on. that fatal flaw...no, he wasn’t sure he could. suck the poison that mutated his heart, that SELFISHNESS was the substance that coursed through unholy veins. to seperate EGO from the SELF was to leave him as nothing....n o t h i n g. just this GAPING hole that consumed his entire chest. 

he feared that not even SHE could fill it. not even SHE could save him. his religion was self-created but birthed through her. her smile. her insecurities. her strong-will. her insaitiable desire to pursue love no matter the cost. it gave him...what’s the word ? Ah, h o p e. 

viperous. fatal. unstable. that’s what hope was. because what do you have left when it’s gone ? 

what would he do if she was gone? who would be left....but himself---to face his sin & the emptiness that perpetually ate at his insides, the organ in his chest. 

what a loney. pathetic. and torutued existence---to be without her....