[ one, choosing to run away and turn a blind eye to what he is, what they are, what they are made to be, all the while staring at death in the face. doomed to failure they are, continually, ad infinitum like how their muscles and sinews knit back together, whatever counting as their souls bound tight to their ragged, jagged bones. stray or not, far from where they belong, the leash is still tight around their throat, and every day heine lives it cuts his breath tight like fingers around his neck.
(stand up and fight)
what good are they for, otherwise?
the only life he lives now is such meager existence as this, a half life, a nothing life bent on revenge and memories of bloodred ghosts, phantom limbs in the dark.
a ghost before him with shadows like some many limbed monster, like snakes, like a pack of wolves.
he didn't ask for this but heine doesn't say it, biting it back like bile rising in the back of his throat along with some ugly emotion that isn't quite hate or disgust (too close to home, the broken figure half sunk in shadows too similar to his own) but it is. ]
Are you really someone who could talk about waste, Giovanni?
[ the hatred makes him bitter, spitting acid and fire in every tense line of his body, in the eyes that stare like murder, like ripped open wound. ]
no subject
(stand up and fight)
what good are they for, otherwise?
the only life he lives now is such meager existence as this, a half life, a nothing life bent on revenge and memories of bloodred ghosts, phantom limbs in the dark.
a ghost before him with shadows like some many limbed monster, like snakes, like a pack of wolves.
he didn't ask for this but heine doesn't say it, biting it back like bile rising in the back of his throat along with some ugly emotion that isn't quite hate or disgust (too close to home, the broken figure half sunk in shadows too similar to his own) but it is. ]
Are you really someone who could talk about waste, Giovanni?
[ the hatred makes him bitter, spitting acid and fire in every tense line of his body, in the eyes that stare like murder, like ripped open wound. ]