The Fabric of our Souls

“Not this time, baby. Go on ahead without me. I’ll see you two later.”

To die, just so they can live without the weight of your existence.

“Everyone who ever claimed they loved me.” Every word lodges deep in my throat like a knife. Betrayal by those who were meant to care for me in the darkest of times. “They acted innocent and coy, drawing me in like fresh air. Wishing to know what ailed me. And the only thing I ever learned from opening up to people was that they desired to know exactly what would hurt me, only to turn the blade back and inflict riotous, irrevocable damage themselves.”

“It is a bit morbid, isn’t it?” I say as I caress one of the dry petals. “I think it’s because it makes me happy to see something that was once so beautiful in life be just as pretty, if not more so, in death. Forever beautiful.”

I enjoy sitting in solitude. Some people hate it, feel vulnerable even, but there’s nothing more peaceful than embracing your own silence. Only you exist, no one else

I like coffee and taking long naps, and I want to die.

What kind of sickness takes your fucking emotions? It’s not fair.

is a bit morbid, isn’t it?” I say as I caress one of the dry petals. “I think it’s because it makes me happy to see something that was once so beautiful in life be just as pretty, if not more so, in death. Forever beautiful.”

“You’re right. That is fucking morbid.” I turn to look at him and he catches my chin gently between his cold fingers. “But you wouldn’t be Wynn Coldfox if your mind wasn’t such a dark, lovely, wicked thing.”

“I think it’s because it makes me happy to see something that was once so beautiful in life be just as pretty, if not more so, in death. Forever beautiful.”

And that’s okay. It’s okay to be small and hidden away. Most gems are.