and while the ashes lie scattered, cold and lifeless, i wonder if i ever felt anything at all. so sick of these symbols painted in that delicate haze across my body. but i know no better, so what do i do? my inner self is getting the better of me. i am being drowned. my head is being forced below your water: you’re screaming at me, and i’m crying for you to stop, but your hands are so blind, and you can’t stop pushing… and i’m dying, suffocating, but you can’t stop killing me… this is a weaker moment for me. i must be strong. like you. later on, this will all be better, and the emotion can’t pour through the seams, and blind your eyes. this is, as ever, nothing another can’t handle: but the boy grows so pathetic now… there’s a twisting fury in his stomach. i look down to view a translucent flesh surrounding my heart: my face is eating away at my insides. crying again; all it needs is somebody to hold it close, weave it light, right? it would only consume them to the point of their own self decay. all masks, anyway… to whom should i turn? the sweet cutter and heavy kisser? or the glorious white snowflake? i want so badly to hold you in my hand, but you’d only melt away from the heat of my breath. this is something unattainable. at least, he believes so. he’s unsure. it’s all so confusing for a single boy. let another figure it out. my hands won’t stop shaking.
