p3titexburial

and the devil says saccharine smile impossibly sweet if you let me i can take you away for we shall walk until your soul runs dry traverse the seas and scour the skies kill the gods just you and i we shall leave this world wanting until you, wild and unfettered grow beautiful, like me in absence and desire all your roads lead back to me

and time shall be a generous child holding our hands smiling sweetly as we walk down the road to the horizon that lies beyond time shall gently etch the grooves of age laugh lines and crows feet to the planes of our faces we will catch eachother's eye and know that the years it has given us were very good indeed time will be a quiet child, reaching out to softly grasp our hearts and even though sometimes we fear the uncertainties of tomorrow, the doubts that have branded themselves upon its soul we will not give up this charge we've been so blessed to keep for, despite our imperfect existance there is no better mother

In the wide expanse of a starry night sky, he looks up and wonders when he's going home. At that moment, he remembers the sunrises he watched, the rose he loved, and the little planet he called his own. But then he looks back down to earth and sees the man he's befriended, thinks of the fox he's tamed, the snake he trusts, and finds that the decision to go "home" is harder than he realizes.

She doesn't know how to fix him, all lonely and melancholy, vomiting suffering and swallowing angst, mind full of lost lovers and and heart broken to more pieces than she could ever hope to pick up. More than the glue at her fingertips can fix. Those pieces are sharp, edges that look harmless but cut deep, and the holes and cracks and crevasses that line her hasty patchwork are more like canyons and dunes and a hundred different mazes that only he can navigate. And sometimes, just sometimes she gets a tiny bit angry--he won't take her hand, guide her shoulder, pull her along, and lead her through, explain, open, because, she thinks, he does