☠︎

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ buried in a grave made ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀by my own hands. ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

i think, for now at least, building a new world sounds nice.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

this anger was a poem. and he was going to perform the hell out of it on stage.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

he was something of smoke, of gunpowder, of echoes and foundationless buildings with blown out windows. he was a thing of destruction.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

“it’s not your fault,” the man said, and he was breathless at the conviction in his voice, the wavering fury that lined his words as he spoke.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

so yes, the world was ending.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

he didn’t understand how someone could be so loud in the face of grief.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

they have a moment———a weight lifted for both of them. a blessing for father and daughter, and a trauma healed.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

after a beat, they turn to each other and burst out laughing. a moment of connection.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

he had wanted to be loved.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

because the only way to repay a sacrifice so big, is by sacrificing your life too.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

they are the raw poems, the hurt poems. they are the poems made of pain, the ones a poet prays to forget and let die. the ones that never stay dead.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

the reckoning can't wipe this place out soon enough.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

he wouldn’t be their little brother anymore, of clumsy words and childish hands.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

“you know it’s not your fault, right?”/n“bullshit.”

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

because we could ruin the world together.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

it is here the poet becomes a necromancer, momentarily given sovereignty over life as they glance down at their infant universe, decide whether or not they should let it burn out and collapse in upon itself, leaving a ghost in its place.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

if his teammate wanted a game of cat and mouse, he’d give him one of dog eat dog.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

you are a poet, and an amazing one———you see all of the withered and dirty and bad parts of the world and you make it into art.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

i would spend centuries writing odes just to perfect how to describe the way i feel about you.

[☠︎ @deathsepiphany]

because how can i be the funny friend if i’m not constantly cauterizing my wounds into a stand up routine? because i’m still performing, and no one is laughing, and the bottle is empty. take. a. shot.