{ shore | d12 } cb.

shore ito ;

Bedsheets. 

A kingdom of white things and soft fallings -- never been above it, never been below anything. A warm hand wraps around mine, with nothing between us but moonlight it's hard to walk away. With nothing but interests to pique it's hard to ignore it.

("Stay with me-"

"okay.")

And maybe he's killed a man. Dirty blood and grease stains on every surface I walk on, all I do is question. Question, question questions falling off the tips of my fingertips; I never quite reach. Money doesn't just appear and sins don't just vanish, and I swear I'm the only sane one who realizes the shit. My family speaks in nothing but hushed tones and midnight conversations; one of my siblings don't realize, the other two are keeping their heads down when I ask anything.

My parents say even less, I never learned not to question it.  

There's smoke in their veins, nothing in guts and wrists but the knowing that there's suspicion around them. I bite my nails at night over it, chipped and edged and it gives me a headache. My forehead pounding, full of nothing but fog and empty loose strings wrapped around my mind like a noose -- I don't understand. Cutting the ties between loved ones and my own soul; how do I love people I no longer know? 

Cutting my tongue on my nail, I swallow the blood.