i never have nightmares.
the lie smells like something burning , chemicals and wood and ice . it smells like a boy left alone too long , like sadness but not sadness , something deeper . more tangible . like she could reach out and TOUCH , if she tried .
doesn’t . how do you PUSH a boy who looks like he may snap in half at the slightest of presses ? cassandra , with her harsh hands , her armor skin — she knew the feel of a blade better than a warm touch . how was she supposed to help a boy with big eyes , rabbit - fast gaze , like he didn’t know how to settle for too long ?
❛ i do , sometimes . ❜ the threads of a gentle smile , like she’s trying to be open but doesn’t quite know how to get it right . like she’s trying to be as soft as she feels inside , sometimes , warm like a blossom before she plucks off the petals , tucks them away . ❛ if you don’t , that’s fine , too . but i do , sometimes . ❜ doesn’t say , sometimes , the nightmares were real , are real . sometimes i am never enough . sometimes i am too much . sometimes everyone is dead and i am carrying the knife . sometimes everyone is dead and i couldn’t save them . sometimes i touch the darkness and it never leaves again , even after i open my eyes .
doesn’t say it . she knows when too much is too much . ❛ having nightmares doesn’t make you weak . you just have to try not to let them swallow you whole . they’re just — bad dreams . ❜
// @oldcoronas !
