InsaneJournal

tired. so very tired. endless days and nights without dawns and sunsets without openings. chewing, gnawing, i'm not used to the feel of intact skin, the scent of air without something terrible, perfume, being free of the hands, the hands, the hands. a thousand years isn't long enough to forget it, it just drives the nails in deeper. ha ha. me, crucified. that's a laugh.

it didn't have to turn out the way it did, he said, wistfully. ha ha.