he’d have fought a god for this spot outside his door & believed he'd enjoy every second of it. under all his want was the same bruised fantasy, a debt he could pay in his shadow, with his name in his mouth while he bled out for it.
if you want someone dead, you should sink your fingers into their eyes, feel their trachea collapse under your hands, let them scratch your arms, pull your hair, cry and beg. if you kill someone, you should want it more than anything you’ve ever wanted. it shouldn’t be easy.
wake up to reality. nothing ever goes as planned in this accursed world. the longer you live, the more you realize that the only things that truly exist in this reality are merely pain, suffering and futility.
for life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one. in the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow, your heart dreams of spring.
first there was love, and then there was no love. but in its place did not come the absence of love, the emptiness that the going of light and heat had left. another moved in to take its place. in its place came hate.
no, we’re not soulmates. this is not divine intervention. and this is most certainly not chance. i willed this. i knit the threads of fate myself until they spelled your name. i love you intentionally. i love you with every bit of conscience i was born with.
