She was a weighted mass of black and sliver.
Darting through woods and over fields.
Ears tipped in glinting metal like stars.
Eyes white in the night observing all that there is.
Wind moves through her hair like water.
She is sleek and quick, breathing hotly in the air.
Her ivory mouth, blowing ice across the sky.
Ivory hands and feet move her across the earth.
Her face fading from black to white at the moon.
Wind and sound ripping from her throat.
She belongs to the night.
At some point we realized
that it was in our flesh.
The markings that made
us what we were.
We realized that it could
be found in our bones.
The skeletal tissue telling
telling the story of how
We were made, how we
were born, how we
And thats when we
realized that now
We were free to die.
How is it that doing the right thing always comes back and bites me in the ass. When someone asks me for help, regardless of who they are or what they’ve done, ill help them to the best of my ability. I will not lie to them, I will not sugar coat the truth, and it will always be the truth. If that makes me the devil, then the devil I am. But sides do not exist in this, and I would tell you the same thing I told her. If you don’t like my choice of words, that says more about you, than me.
But trust me when I say I’ll never speak again.