He was a piece of art, a stained glass window. I wanted to put him back together and ended up getting cut in the process. I loved him, but it's too cold for him in my arms. He needs the warmth of another with softer hands and a more graceful tongue.
Adrian yelled at me that he never wanted to see me again, and I understand that. It's like a cataclysmic whisper echoing in the vast ruins of an ancient and crumbling castle. It's warm like a flame, but it burns beneath the skin. I loved him like a candle loves a flame, but eventually the candle will melt and the flame will die.
I'm merely a bandaid
Let him find a universe to destroy, not Pluto.
YOU ARE READING
Spiral
Short StoryEmpathetic and apathetic make a pretty grey garden. We were once a perfect match, but all matches burn out.
