"IF THE MOON SMILED, SHE WOULD RESEMBLE YOU.
YOU LEAVE THE SAME IMPRESSION
OF SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL, BUT ANNIHILATING.”
You are daughter of the stars and destruction, born from the same hands that pin death in the skies as constellations. Something quivers and moans under your skin; phantoms trapped between two worlds, darkness you swallowed whole with premature gums. You don’t need a house to be haunted. You grin, turn the moon over in your smile. All you need is your rune-marked bones, a body promised to crackling skies and howling winds. Death croons within you, burning offerings to lost humanity in the quiet ends of your fingertips, torch held above your head. These days, everybody’s already dead.
You strike your last match, and wait.
i don’t write as much as i used to these days. my words are tired and my dreams faded, like rain swallowed whole on a dark night. i chase strangers in daydreams and fall asleep on buses with my eyes wide open, chewing gum to keep my jaw busy. i saw your hands on a stranger the other day and they were so foreign, it killed me. it killed me.