Ring Compositions | Destiel, for what it's worth
Ring Compositions | Destiel, for what it's worth
Because it's been over a season and yet I can't get this goddamn scene out of my head, and it's hurting me, so I should at least pretend to hurt someone else with it, even if my thoughts, as per usual, do not make any sense
----
Oh and yes, and then I stabbed you,
critically, like a beautiful
ring composition --
(even though the blade changed its way, it still hit you,
right to the heart; killing you
just like I always knew it would -- )
If they had strung you up and burned your wings
they could not have hurt you more
it's not a pretty thing, to see, of everything:
an angel bleeding blood-red sorrow on the floor
(you: a comet, endless stars fallen
into my way: you hit the ground with a sound
of statues shattering. could you not hurt me once
with a flick of a wrist? but you broke, broke, broken
at my feet; prophecy, I've learned, is never satisfied;
all circles must be completed.)
I still don't know whose blood it was on the floor
(yours or his or even hers, the embodiment of everything we've lost)
but it wasn't mine: I had already
completely
irrevocably
bled out into the dark.
Er zijn nog geen reacties.