bones exposed {i&m day 2!blitz}
Mar 6, 2015 1:03:16 GMT -5
Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2015 1:03:16 GMT -5
Within each fleeting step and stumble, The thoughts and morals of the two tumble, She asked why and he asked when, But neither could answer; Neither could sin. For truth be told one thing was known, Immorality was a plant sown. He had ended another’s life Without guilt or strife, And she found pleasure At rooting his body for treasure. We play heroes for a single reason, Never giving thought to trespass or treason, But do not forget In the midst of it all, The larger the ego the harder we fall. We were alive. And though blood fell fresh from both of our wounds you could feel pulse beneath scratched skin, and as I draw my fingers tenderly over what has not been marked I watch his reaction, feeling each twitch of nerve and anxiety. It takes more than collection to keep a steady hand as I take needle and thread to the cut on his cheek, moving my other to cup his chin, “Hold still.” Bits of irritation tinge the words’ edges, as the frustration of probable loss and grief gnaws at the corners of my mind. We had both taken the brunt of rough attacks, each of us attempting to lick our own wounds, and though the blood still fell periodically from the space void of fingers I coped by turning my attention away from it, leaving the cold to numb agony and tasks to suppress thoughts. “You—we have to be more careful, Lex.” I take my gaze from his wound, but I cannot lift it to meet his own, for when I look at more than what he’s lost I can hear nothing but his scream, nothing but the panic of terror and regret and everything in between, and that troubles me more than the gash across his cheek. |
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