#is autobiographical

[verisimilines]

you take to the forest, away from the talking. little horns barely not-hidden in your artfully wild hair, eyes your natural purple. violent delights have violent ends but you’re not looking for anything that flashy. A tarnished gold band around your wrist a reminder of times when you believed in fighting. Now, you walk in the woods, bare too-sharp teeth at trespassers. learn the cycles of this world. live the way you always meant to, free.

j/h

[psycho-jello]

waits at the window, wearing the hair that he keeps in a jar by the door