A RARE MOMENT OF PEACE : the sun is welcomed into their whispered embrace, a kind spread of heat on wren’s eternal winter [ the trees have not grown into wren’s heart for quite some time --- what roots can be birthed into a running doe? ]. a necklace attached around her neck, the vague flash of skin revealed as wren stretches upwards --- you cloak your skin for long enough and you fade away from personhood ( what lays beneath this shirt and will i ever get to see it myself? ). ‘ oh, that one? ‘ her voice is water - thin, an excuse tangling upon her tongue --- the skin is jagged and uneven, a rip of skin, a rupture of her body. ‘ i fell when i was a kid. into some roses. and they [ ... ] well, you know how it goes. ‘ she latches the necklace, smooths her hands across her shirt to cover the flash of her body.
@whiskahs said : “ this scar..what happened? ”














