Hard to tell, when he fell...

Heart like a truck...

I thought you should know

That all those prayers you thought 

you wasted on me

Must've finally made their way on through

I thought you should know

you can stop worrying. 

There is no monster under my bed...

Deal with all this, live with myself, you mean? I honestly don't know. I stand often enough at the abyss of my soul, asking that same question, looking down into the dark crevices where the black devils dwell on the bottom. They gaze up at me, and I look them in the eyes. “You are this as well,” they say, and I almost fall into the void. And then? I turn around and go do what needs to be done. What else is there?

Start by pulling him out of the fire and hoping that he will forget the smell. He was supposed to be an angel but they took him from that light and turned him into something hungry, something that forgets what his hands are for when they aren't shaking. He will lose so much, and you will watch it all happen because you had him first, and you would let the world break its own neck if it means keeping him. Start by wiping the blood off of his chin and pretending to understand. Repeat to yourself “I won’t leave you, I won’t leave you” until you fall asleep and dream of the place where nothing is red.