影.

𝙶𝙾𝙳 𝙸𝚂 𝙾𝙼𝙽𝙸𝙿𝚁𝙴𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚃.

[wrrnth]

Visit Original Link

WHAT I SAY BECOMES REALITY  . . .  writing blog for sheik of the legend of zelda franchise . oot based + botw compliant,  heavily canon divergent on the terms of sheik being an independent character within hyrule canon and lore .  read the rules linked in the description before following .  est ‘20.  |    sb:  @svnths   +   @svnthm​​​

A LOOK AT   :    divine intervention,  dreams as reality,  reformed knighthood ,  the shadow as a person,  the matter of morality and time,  violent faith .   

mun :   vic.   21+. she/her.  played + familiar with most loz games.

[wrrnth]

@sheikage​ 🤍

[wrrnth]

@sheikage​ 🤍

[wrrnth]

@sheikage​ 🤍

[wrrnth]

@sheikage​ 🤍

[seenfate]

I.     SHADOW [    06    /     ∞   ]

[wrrnth]

my thing with botw ( and botw based blogs / muses / analysis etc. ) is that it almost always never works by default of loz being a horizontal narrative .  you can’t just explore botw and not be reminded of skysword ,  which you can’t play without being reminded of tp ,  which you can’t play without being reminded of oot . i am fully behind just picking up the game for the vibes of it as a fantasy adventure open world rpg ,  but if you want to talk about the story and the characters and the lore then you need more than that .  then you need to sit down and engage with the world beyond one offering .

[wrrnth]

zmeydeva:

·        WAKING IN A BEAM OF LIGHT FROM A DISTANT SUN.    the quality of its illumination is not quite as she remembers it.    the sheets around her are cold,    they are also the wrong color    (   crisp white instead of pale powder blue   )    birdsong is muffled against glass but it is the click of fingers fluttering across a keyboard that grounds her in the bedroom she occupies.     rising from her heap of down and tousled hair,    it is only those swaths of sleek black that provide any concealment of her naked form in the dawn glow.    morning has only begun with the blushing sky seen through the curtains.    @wrrnth’s back is casted in that camellia haze and it draws the botanist forth like a beacon.    

[ APPROACH ] receiver wakes to find sender is already out of bed so they come find them and sleepily embrace them,     refusing to let go.   

      ❛   who could you be furiously typing away to when i’m right here?      ❜    slipping out from under the covers,    she has padded soundlessly across the narrow room.    the desk is a sight she is well-acquainted with as she had seen it in varying states of disarray through pixelated displays.    to feel its true surface beneath her fingertips as something solid rather than confined to screen is a novelty that has not yet run its course.    wedging herself between the computer and them is a task that places her upon their lap.    her bare chest against their own and the heat is immediate,    banishing the early-morning chill that seized her the moment she had fled from bed.    ANOTHER NOVELTY THAT MAINTAINED ITS SPARK.     arms encircle their neck and there  is a feline tenderness to the way she nestled her face into the crook of their collar bone.        ❛   it’s too early for work,    pay attention to me or i’ll delete all your files.      ❜    sleep is heavy in her voice,    it robs her threat of urgency especially when followed by the kiss she leaves against the column of their throat.   

they had seen her asleep on so many occasions    ,     they have lost count   .    where they would work deep through the night and up into the morning   ,   sleep only ever little concern to them    ,     most of these hours were spent with her across from them through the screen      -     watching the biologist nod off in increments which stirred a forbidden kind of tranquillity inside of them    ,    one that humbled them so much more human   .     whenever they stayed awake they wondered how she dreams without them    ,    what shape those images she fled into had when they weren’t there to paint half of the picture   .    but to see her asleep right in the space where they usually took a few hours of rest stirs something else inside of them    ,     an undeniable sense of rightness stirring into the peace of the morning   .

where they type and type    ,      they could hear her stirring without having to look   .    it is rare to hear someone else’s presence in their most private space   (    as spartan as even this is    ,     they conceded the bigger room to link with no complaint   )    and before they can look over their shoulder   ,     the scent of wildflowers and something primally personal to her reaches around them before she does   .    “   i was finishing updated notes on the week’s work schedule   ,    since i didn’t get around to send them out last night   ,   ”    they say   ,    not above leaving their tone pointedly neutral .   the resolve is only broken when she forces them to look at her instead   ,    a sight they would long to paint with their eyes closed when she’d be gone but they could not turn away from when she is right here     -     well within their grasp   .    letting one arm settle around her   ,   a palm on her back    ,    they could only hope to provide enough heat for the both of them   .      “     i am paying attention to you   ,   ”    they abide   ,    a kiss against her temple   ,   nose against the unruly mess of her hair   .    their free hand hits send on the memo before curling around her waist   .    “    and i do have to agree ,  i find having you right here much better than having to write out all my thoughts .    ”

[nobletaste-deactivated20230222]

independent  and  selective  writing  blog  for  astarion  of  larian  studios  baldur's  gate  iii.    established  on  february 2nd, 2023 and  controlled  by  amata.

a study in : the finest taste of animal blood, breaking away from the abuse you have endured, onlyfangs, total sass master, the tadpole in our brains, the taste of noble men, unable to see the face we wear.

[wrrnth]

ENTRY ,  ACCEPTING .

to ask for devotion from the ever-brimming shadow is a call to be heeded  .   it could easily be forgotten what lies beneath the almost obscure nature of their existence    ,     to see the polished calm of a ghost and miss the body entirely present beneath    .   to ask for devotion from a monk is to ask for a knife from a butcher    -     both paint an absolute beginning and end    ,     both cut through mortal flesh with a quiet brutality to the motion   .    once it is done it is done   ,   a vow drenched in blood    ,    a body marked forever by its choice   .    they are not the ghost she has one mistaken them for    ,    they are the purifying force always at the altar of a goddess     ,     always digging their hands into a waterfall expecting baptism and returning with a face soaked in blood   .    this is why half of them is hidden    ,     acts of such devotion are only ever allowed to be accounted for when they are in presence of the most holiest of power   .

my goddess is good    ,     she never lets me starve  .    many have abstained once the golden goddesses and their spirits disappeared    ,    but not the steadfast shadow who has seen worlds come and go and could still find it in themselves to pray   .     their pantheon is a lone gallery   ,   sole survivor of their endless scripture being the very first to ever call them into her station   .     a title given and a name erased    ,    water swallowed      -     it would take centuries for the doors to allow another one in   .    the fox has snuck around the way those canine’d tricksters do    ,     but this is no trap and they have not let themselves be mined for a joke   .    if this body is holy    ,     it is for good reason  .

@koyonna​​ stains red where she goes   ,    ever-autumnal and ever fruitful    ,    and she matches the burn of their eyes perfectly    .     it is amused tenderness she lays into her words    ,    practised now to near-perfection that hardly seems clumsy   .    “   show me yours ,   i’ll show you mine  .   ”    it begs a raised brow from the monk    ,      as most of her sentences do    ,    and even if the confidence may reek of deception they could almost find themselves rendered mute by the easy to allow such an exchange     -      the body has been given over   ,     yet the shadow still creates a fate of their own making because all fates come to an end inside of them    .   they are hers    ,    she does not know the full extent of it yet   .

hands touch against the knotted cloth at the back of their neck    ,     the implication more than obvious   .    they could undress themselves fully for her and shed every little bit of fabric or magic shrouding them in perfect cover and yet it would not be as significant as what she asks of them    .      “   close your eyes first   .     ask my old goddess for the trade you are about to invite ,   so my new one can be allowed  ,   ”    they tell her   ,    their hands loosening the knot as they sit before her   (   her forest is quiet here   ,    as if lying dormant in expectation of winter  .    )       “    all of me is not handed over with just one word   ,   no matter your potency .    what will you give me   ,     inari?    ”

[daylighter-moved]

KISS TO GIVE IN TO HIM,     —𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄 :     ＊    𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆.

that night he would credit the shift in his heart to the flashing lights of a forgotten night club,   where friends and the implication of drink had loosened the steel walls of his reservations — so that by the time he’d come home,  he’d accept their offer to come inside on the excuse of needing quiet.   the next day he would credit his own cold whims,   the strange ache that he had discovered was merely a hardrive for want;   and the day after that he would credit them alone,   their eyes on his face and their hands when they had touched.

one date and then five.   there was tea,   looks across the pavement the day after,  and half-smiles while they induldged conversation with someone else  (  when really,   it was apparent,   there was only one person on both their minds to begin with;   where else could all his flirtations and calculated smiles go?   )   he could credit the world for leading them here,   but what mattered more,  was who was at fault.

time seemed elongated between them,   a blanket shared  (  it smelled like them  )   and a laptop screen that showcased a movie reel that interested them,   history and the like,   a long study that prompted them to speak  —  a marvel he watched keen eyed,   still in the clothes he’d worn on a night out.   he was not sure when it had started,   between his leg brushing theirs and his hand purposefully knocking into theirs,   or his eyes hanging intentionally on a handsome jaw,   his whisper too soft by an ear.   he was not sure when he had betrayed himself to pretty temptations,   which meant the fault was entirely his own,   but he liked to believe it was theirs.   (   how could @wrrnth look that way and get away with it?   a kiss might feel like death;   not kissing might feel worse.   )

he was saying close to their shoulder,    ❛   had you found pieces of what you were looking for,   before you travelled here?   ❜    but he’d succeeded somewhat in chipping down their restraint,   because when he looked back up their eyes seemed different this close,   fogged,   and entirely aware of what he was doing.   he bit down a smile.      ❛   are you going to answer me?   ❜    and then,   because they treasured honesty.      ❛   or are you going to kiss me instead?   ❜  

he imagined words lept to the tip of sheik’s tongue even if he watched,  in real time,   how they chose to discard each of them in favour of giving in.   the kiss felt like a crash and careful delivery at once,   strength and fragility in a swoop;   he felt himself sigh into their mouth,   a hand jolting to their neck,   and the blanket that bound them together stretch against their shifting frames.   when he’d gotten his bearings and wound his fingers into the tufts of their hair,   he had kissed back with the sun in his throat,   a warmth so fierce it banished the cold.

[wrrnth]

what was once a lonely day has become far less lonely over time   .     at some point they have gotten used to the monotony   ,     still so unaccustomed to any lasting safety and yet accepting the stillness of this life with the same reverence they levelled upon the rest of the world    .     it is a stillness they still had to grow into as well    ,    one they conquered quietly by themselves    (     hours of research conducted in their own home or in the research center that they have wielded quiet command over for some time now    )    but that still seems to have new mountains for them to climb    ,     new experiences to admit into its frame and complete the picture   .    where they would have given their time off from those hours of meticulous searching and studying to personal manner of research and the few other practices they have found promising     ,      there has come an interception into their finely-woven routine   .

the sun is all cracks and fissures    ,     all broken into his most unruly parts and yet so compelling for it       -    they are drawn in by him like a shadow cast long under the latest hour of the day    ,     nurtured by by his light even from afar    ,    becoming a forest with eternal growth now that they have the time and now that he has made himself shown   .     it should not be plausible    ,     how he breaks through their resistance and resolve    ,    how he lays claim on the flat land of them like a star crashing down from the sky and making home in the explosion’s crater all the same   .    maybe it is all their fault    ,     as they have never pushed him away and only invited him in   ,    with all his irritations and rowdiness and beauty and   ,   most importantly    ,    those broken edges that fit so perfectly against their own hands   ,    their own self   .

curious by nature    ,     too curious for his own good    (    he is just like them    )    .    his body asks first before his mouth does   ,     syllables springing forth from the pale of his skin and the golden shine he possesses even when lies dormant in days’ old clothing and tiredness he could probably not shake from himself   ,    their past-time of choice he has decided to luck in to definitely not helping  .   their hand has found permanent residence in his hair   ,    a slow caress through the mess down to the warm skin of his neck    ,     a movement almost meditative as they lose focus on the screen more and more   .    it is like his question was harbinger of more as it is     -    he may inquire the divine   ,   his answer is a mouthful of it    .    they kiss him with one hand at the back of his head and the other on his face   ,    fingers grasping him as if he is as unreal as them in this time-frame   .    to them he is   .    to them he is an anomaly of aeons .

they kiss him until their breath runs short  ,     content to possess that ever-talking and prying mouth of his for a short moment   .    only when they are warmed down to the inner-most part of themselves do they let go   ,   the line of their body pressed against his side in what is nothing short of impractical for both of them   (    what rare show of humanity from an ancient being    )    .     “    lacking sleep makes you lack manners   ,    ”    they chide him softly   ,   a kiss against the fine cut of his cheekbone   ,   another close to his ears in a mirror of his own initiative to ask them    .      “    but i don’t mind it today   .   ”   their thumb caresses close to his ear   ,    thumb against thin skin there    .      “   i have found many things  .   many pieces of the people i used to know  ,    it is why i keep searching   .    but all pieces of what i was looking for i have found in you  .    ”

[wrrnth]

ENTRY ,  ACCEPTING .

the amber of their eyes is unrelenting     -     not to discern truth from fiction but for the most mundane of reason    ,     to give their expression the weight it deserved   .    disappointment is a hard cross to bear  ,    but thankfully they have all the experience with it   ,    have shrouded themselves in the role of the chiding and abiding bystander so many times one could easily forget there were times they have been prone to elicit pain of this kind more than any kind of inaction could have befallen them  .   passivity is a new moral to them   ,    one that is still not as close to their second nature as patience is     ,      but one that is better employed these days than any heedless ruthlessness   .    enter the viper   ,    glorious and gloriously stubborn   ,   wrapped in mysterious fog as if he were to make a parlour trick of it for the kicks and as if one member of an audience would be enough  .

@vipier​ could almost sound apologetic for it  ,   of one is to be easily fooled by such an act   (    which the shadow is not    )     ,    “   please don’t hold me to it.   ”    the entertainment of the confession makes its case in the room all the same   ,   enough for stern hands to become gentle  .

their hands are careful in motion all the same   ,    perfectly poised as they stand before him and cut away at the already short strands with the scissor  .   this is a practice nearly ancient to them   ,     a counterfeit act of apology in itself    ,    born out of necessity as a show of care   .     for two people who live existences that are so prone to harbour lies   ,    there is an edge of sincerity in their proximity    ,    in being there for tristan in this way and letting him talk in his   .   they understand him anyway   ,    no matter the avenue of communication   (   he is a language they know faithfully    )    .      “    oh   ,   i will most certainly do  .   ”    another snip   ,    their palm brushing over the top of his head   ,   dark strands fine between their fingers     .     “   i waited six months   .    you stood me up for a job you could have done in half the time  .    leave me my spite for another five minutes   ,   hebi .    ”

[ladygriffon]

why did you come? [𝕾] ⚔ SHEIK , @wrrnth

she scoffs. ❛❛ as if you'd know what to do without me. ❜❜ she has come because she cares, of course, and for sheik in specific. but the maker knows alys'd succumb to death before allowing that to pass between her lips. ❛❛ you look terrible. ❜❜ the injury is clear despite their healing magics; exhaustion has claimed their features, in deeper lines and darker shadows, and where sheik's skin has knit back neatly, their shirt hangs loose and torn, ochre-stained with dirt or with blood. it is irritating, really, how fractal magic can be. ❛❛ strip. i will darn it. ❜❜ a command, not a question.

[wrrnth]

the rope that binds is rotten    ,    soaked in filth of darkened words and blood from tarnished wounds   ,    from hands clawing into old stitches and pulling them open   .    this interception between hero and shadow is one that bears little kindness   ,    but is kinder for it all the same it   .    neither of them deals in anything but unbridled truths between them     -   sincerity so acerbic ,   it could make fresh blood sting on its own   .     “   should i mark the occasion?   you willingly came to my     . . .    arrival for someone’s sake that is not entirely your own?   or is there reason you wish to see my shredded armour?   ”   their voice is soft as ever  ,   the light tone of it never missing its own mark against the warden as they tear the rest of the shirt beneath their armour away  .   what is called armour to them   ,   would be little protection to anyone else    ,    which they know to be all more reason for alys’s frowning   .      “   there   ,    you have me all for yourself  ,   ”    they retort to the command     (    ever the obedient follower   ,    a knight drenched in old scars    )     and put the bloodied fabric down to their waist where the rest of their mangled armour pooled around them  .   their face remains pointedly covered  ,  but their gaze bores into hers  .    “   i am waiting   .   ”

[feneireth2]

the end of exile is the end of being. so says sheik , ˢᵒᵐⁿⁱᵃʳⁱ  ๋࣭ ⭑ ﴿ @wrrnth

starlight descends as they appear, as if sheik has cloaked it around their being, calling forth pinpricks of light and brushing the clouds of night away. she doesn't know what they mean. she never has. so often she has felt stupid in their wake, parched of philosophy yet not clever enough to wish to drink. but what is certain is this: al'anna is no longer meek. her violet eyes have narrowed, so like those thin gashes of starlight above, as she receives them.

❛❛ so? ❜❜ with white fur framing her angular cheeks, she is quite camouflaged within this winter. the mountains' fury does not buffet her. there is no home she's built here other than cracks between stone where she has burrowed. it's strange that sheik found her in this wilderness, though al'anna isn't keen to hear their answer; it is what it is, and little more. ❛❛ i am not exiled. i am content, perhaps hungry. ❜❜ she is armed with tragedy, still drenched in her lover's blood, a stain she cannot clean. but what is worse than grief? unsatisfied insatiability. i crave his wound, the flesh, my pain. to be widowed must be trauma beyond belief, but to be defiled, ushered into dark longing, and then left wanting is surely worse.

she leers at them, eyeshine alight: ❛❛ are you good enough to eat? ❜❜

[wrrnth]

what the wild takes   ,     it will give in equal measure if not more abundance   .    most only see the violence of it     -     murder of any kind is a horrid affair   ,    and even more so where there are no laws to prohibit how to go about it or if one were to go about it all   .    all one’s got left is their own morals and those are up to debate against a fight for survival    ,    like the balance of a sword swinging on a thin rope    ,    waiting for the moment to cut off either worrying head or motionless hand   .     it is easier to let oneself be nicked by the blade than to let it slice clean through   ,    as blood may always be spilled but it is bearable   .    blood spills everywhere    ,      high on mountains and low beneath the tide’s surface    ,     in between are the only places mortals have their eyes to judge and demand   .     those with enough fortune could slice and spill by their heart’s content    ,    it is the rest who is to be judged for grazing flesh  .

the unfairness is neither lost on them nor have they any mysterious desires to insert themselves into a narrative of spilled blood   .    they have stained their hands enough    ,    this is if anything a meeting of equals   .     “   not exiled from this place   ,     perhaps    ,    as you certainly have grown into its presence   .    into yours   ,     as well    ,   ”    they tell al’anna with a voice fading from emotion and yet there is a trace akin to acceptance   ,    recognition beyond the surface of empty phrases  .    the shadow seldom talks   ,    in most stories they just watch   .    tilting their head to the widowed beast   ,    she would find the edge of a smile beneath cloth hiding the warrior’s face     -     not a bet   ,     but an offer   .      “   are you good enough to kill me?    hunger takes strange forms   ,    i intend at least some effort for being slain .   or devoured   .   ”

[wrrnth]

the dichotomy of sheik’s existence makes me want to shriek sometimes …. the holy priest devoted to their faith and work , almost ascetic in appearance and behaviour . the blood-soaked executioner whose actions go unseen but when they turn their cheek into the light they are stained red . the budding end of winter , that flower cracking through ice and concrete both . they are both of the sharp violence they carry and the gentleness they care to cultivate and they can be both at the same time .

[moosings-deactivated20231019]

PHOEBE BRIDGERS LYRIC PROMPTS.

inspired from phoebe’s albums: punisher and stranger in the alps. as always, some triggering content may be present! change any pronouns to better suit your muse(s) needs!

why would somebody do this on purpose?

i wanted to go, but i didn’t.

we talk until we think we might just kill ourselves.

you were screamin’ at the evangelicals.

swore i could feel you through the walls.

i had to carry you.

i’m hungry for blood.

somebody better be dying.

now i can’t breathe, and i can’t sleep.

i feel something when i see you now.

anyway, don’t be a stranger.

i hate living by the hospital.

you must’ve been looking for me.

if it meant i would see you when i die.

all the skeletons you hide…

it must be something in the water.

will you have me, or watch me fall?

remember getting the truck fixed?

i know there’s something waiting for us.

i don’t know what i want.

baby, you’re a vampire.

i can’t open my mouth and forget how to talk.

always surprised by what i do for love.

we can be anything.

please don’t hold me to it.

i only went one time.

the end is here.

and what about the band?

show me yours, i’ll show you mine.

i know he needs you, you’re all that he sees.

be whatever you want.

i scared you in your house.

i want to live at the holiday inn.

i guess it’s too late to change it now.

i’m thinking out loud.

tell me what you’ll do, please.

one of your eyes is always half-shut.

i’m singing at a funeral tomorrow.

i’ve been talking to his dad, it makes me so sad…

somebody roll the windows down.

i’ve got a good feeling.

i would do anything for you.

i’ll be whatever you want.

i don’t need you to tell me what that means.

i asked him nicely once to pack his things and go.

something happened when you were a kid.

there’s a last time for everything.

i couldn’t take it any longer, and i lost control.

it’s amazing to me how much you can say.

i didn’t know you then and i’ll never understand.

do you feel ashamed?

i went with you up to the place you grew up in.

there’s something i’m supposed to say.

i swear i’m not angry, that’s just my face.

you, you must’ve been looking for me.

no, i’m not afraid of hard work.

you got me good; i knew you would.

you know the killer doesn’t understand.

man, i wish that i could say the same.

if i fix you, will you hate me?

i miss you like a little kid.

i could scream to drown you out.

next time i see you, you’ll show me.

he is a fine new addition, so young and so clean.

always have and i always will.

i’m at the movies, i don’t remember what i’m seeing.

i’m tired of trying to get in the house.

wouldn’t know where to start.

i want to believe.

i’m losing all my hair.

it’s a government drone or an alien spaceship.

everyone knows you’re the way to my heart.

i even scared myself by talking.

i’m on the outside looking through.

i’m standing too close.

sorry that it all went down like it did.

last night, i blacked out in my car.

i’m gonna kill you.

he came up through the water without a sound.

you get a few points for tryin’.

i can count on you to tell me the truth.

i’ve never seen you smiling so big.

he got me good, i knew he would.

i’m always pushing you away from me.

he missed my heart.

i grew up here, ‘til it all went up in flames.

i want to go home.

they dragged me off to jail, set a million dollar bail.

i will always be right here.

there’s no place like my room.

i don’t wanna be alone.

i wanted to see the world.

but i asked him one more time, this time pulled out my shiv.

was hoping you would let it go, and you did.

the drug stores are open all night.

no, it’s not important, they’re just pretty words, my dear.

that’s quite a list, but there’s one thing you missed.

it’s gonna be just like my recurring dream.

i’m a liar.

i get this feeling whenever i feel good.

i’ll stay out of my own hell.

for generations, they’ll romance us, make us more.

that’s just how i feel.

i buried a hatchet, it’s coming up lavender.

i turned around, there was nothing there.

from the window, it’s not a bad show.

not even the burnouts are out here anymore.

i hardly feel anything at all.

so i gotta go, i know, i know, i know.

you were still in the ambulance.

you always say that you’d prefer to drown.

i’m amazed that you’re alright.

when i’m lonely, that’s when i’ll burn it.

if you find me, will you know me?

they were screamin’ right back from what i remember.

i’ve been running around in circles.

i've been playing dead.

i’m sleeping in my bed again, and getting in my head.

they make you live in the past.

i can hardly feel anything.

i woke up in my childhood bed.

a feeling of relief came over my soul.

i want to know what would happen.

you’re gonna drown in your sleep for sure.

he never lies or picks up his phone.

you’re holding me like water in your hands.

baby, it’s halloween.

after a while you went quiet.

no, i’m not afraid to disappear.

you must’ve been looking for me.

i would give you the moon.

i have this dream where i’m screaming underwater.

they killed a fan down by the stadium.

i want to be wrong.

when i think too much about it i can’t breathe.

i can’t sleep and i miss your face.

they strapped me in the gurney, took me off to the infirmary.

i’ll find a new place to be from.

i hate you for what you did.

that makes me feel old.

he got me in the shins, and he got me in the arms.

i’m gonna chase it, i know, i know, i know.

all of our problems? i’m gonna solve 'em.

i’m stupid in love.

yeah, i guess the end is here.

i won’t be home with you tonight.

underneath her whimpering, i could hear the sirens sound.

fell on hard times a year ago.

sometimes i think i’m a killer.

we can be anything.

there is no distraction that can make me disappear.

i dreamt that he drowned.

when he gets older, he might be the one.

she can do anything she wants to.

plus, i’m pretty sure i’d miss you…

either way, we’re not alone.

you don’t have to know that it’s haunted.

you know i hate to be alone.

guess i lied.

wouldn’t know when to stop.

i think when you’re gone, it’s forever.

i’ll be glad that i made it out.

either i’m careless or i wanna get caught.

i hope you kiss my rotten head.

it’s 4 a.m. again.

we found our way out.

he missed my heart.

we have the same face.

hear so many stories of you at the bar…

all the bad dreams that you hide…

he’s half the man and you’re twice as tall.

i gotta go now, i know, i know, i know.

i don’t forgive you.

if i breathe you, will it kill me?

man, i hate this part of texas.

you know i’m never gonna let you have it.

and i changed my mind.

he might be the one.

it’s for the best.

you had to go, i know, i know, i know.

i’m too tired.

tell me what you wanna do to me.

i faked it every time.

you missed my heart.

oh, come on, man!

you were in a band when i was born.

i have everything i wanted.

i’m not gonna go down with my hometown in a tornado.

i don’t believe in that stuff anymore.

jesus christ, i’m so blue all the time.

saw him in the kitchen, hanging up the phone.

i feel something when i see you.

there’s nothing i can do.

i am sick of the chase.

you are somebody’s baby.

i hate your mom.

i got mean.

so long, prison boy!

it’ll be the last time.

i would do anything you want me to.

but right now, it feels good not to stand.

i love a good place to hide in plain sight.

i will try to drown you out.

take a dirty picture, babe.

it’s sad that his baby died.

i’m doing nothing.

hey, why do you sing with an english accent?

i get everything i want.

i look at the sky and i feel nothing.

when you touch down, i’ll be waving.

now i’m too tired to go to sleep.

i feel like i know you?

i hate it when she opens her mouth.

it’s just a matter of time before i’m hearing things.

call me when you land.

would you fuck this and let us fall?

they still got payphones…

you might be dying.

i’m a bad liar.

you wrote me a letter…

i’ve given all my love.

[wrrnth]

trying to be here today. watch this space.

[wrrnth]

failed to be here. i am graceful in defeat.