DAMAGE RESTS IN THE WAKE of the wicked , like a pestering boil it’s remained the centered hub of his integrity . lately , the bones have been quaking , shifting along the body to guide on to dreary ends and he can feel the ache between his toes , the numbing throb in his gums . his mind craved clearance , the distant pressure of the estate looming in a shadow above the tattoo parlor left him daunted , steady . ❛ there’s always something ----- ❜ what happens to him beneath the flesh is mere sardonic poisoning . ichor veined he stands , but this moment he is a heap of his own self miscalculations . a mistake had been made down the line , the drawn bridge of the casino remains , the distraught echoings of the people left to rot . he was a sufferer in his own design and the first time these words spill past tightly kept lips already he no longer bares the mark of ATLAS to carry the world on his shoulders , as he is failing to carry himself . ❛ you’d think by now this town would be used to the loss , don’t you think ? ❜ a slight pause , his body propped against the half wall separating the chairs ❛ is it hypocritical of me to wonder if things will ever get back to normal ? ❜ @scges twelve years late ? more likely than you think !!
