⭐️ (i’m dying I feel like i’ll only get 1 word)
#1
“what have you done?” a familiar question. you think you feel a knife dig into your back but you don’t know who’s holding it. it’s then that you look at her and she cries and you realise those tears aren’t for him, they’re for you. CHOSEN son. r u i n e d son. fix-it-yourself son.
#2
you keep it in your pocket like a souvenir of a better time although it wears away and the patterns disappear because it rubs against too many coins. money makes everything dirty; even you. this time you aren’t so bad. you don’t like the people you used to be but like a snake you wonder when you’ll next shed your skin, when you’ll next be free. too much reparation to pay. who are you paying it to? what are you paying for? living.
