@rhuunkyr asked of poetry || ALWAYS ACCEPTING, FAVORITE MEMES
"I used to ache for a hurricane, an earthquake."
“... Eventually we become all that we ache for. Or those things consume us, consume us, consume us,” she murmurs, considering the words and the weight. “It’s worse if we do not choose what it is that haunts us.” And she looks to the other then, gaze too-seeing and too sharp.
“Did you choose it? Or did it choose you?” The words are sharper, now, biting, and her smile is all fangs and wild, strange delight.
“Did the storms come from within you? Or did the ones outside you tear you apart and build you anew, to what I see now? To what you see, when you look to a mirror?”
Muninn leans forward then, curious, ever wanting to know, and to know, and to know.
“Are you a storm? Or are you the ruins left when one erupts from the threads that built it?”
