#watershedsuggestion

[watershedsuggestion]

What do I care of it? Can it raise me high? Can it make me whole? Can it right my wrongs? Then what, pray tell, should I care of it?

[watershedsuggestion]

And my heart is wreathed in flames, and my soul is wrapped in thorns, but I’ve many miles yet to trek before I dull these horns.

[watershedsuggestion]

no one talks about it enough. everyone talks about it too often. it’s devastating, really.

[watershedsuggestion]

and you sang it loudly and with pride. you shared it with everyone before you realized it was personal.

[watershedsuggestion]

what do you do when your claws are never dulled? when all you know is tearing apart, ripping through, and biting palms? can you call it passion, then? when it manifests as fury?

[watershedsuggestion]

There was no chance to be soft; no time to refine this coal-colored anger into any sort of jewel. You’ll have to make do with it, my love - chip away at it, I don’t care. Melt it down, shatter it into a million pieces. Make it fit into the ring. Make it beautiful.

[watershedsuggestion]

I’m sorry you were fed that lie, and I’m sorry there’s some truth to it.

[watershedsuggestion]

I'll never know what it looked like from the outside. But all of a sudden I was coughing up blood, I was bleeding out, I was covered in red, I was stained in sin. And I kept searching for the wound but I couldn't find it. The blood and the wound and the scar - I’ll never know if they were mine. I hope they weren’t yours, darling, but our insides all look the same. That’s enough for now. Will you fetch the peroxide?