You’ve got this hold on me. There’s a tie here and I’m not wearing it.
I’ve lost it.
This battle with starvation. The desire to burn my skin from toes to fingers. Even this war with rest has slowed to just a sword fight. I’ve got a general on my right, and a painting on my wrist to the left that will forever remind me of how I feel at this exact time and place. In control… sort of. Powerful… when I’m not alone.
Completely engulfed by tentacles is a warm home.
Strokes of lightning in your body electrocute me. I am within an inch of death by the time that door closes behind you. It’s not a matter of quaking hands anymore, there’s a terrible storm beneath the plates of my entire body. I can barely walk. But there’s somewhere we must go, to say goodbye. Or at the very least memorialize that thunder in a bottle using the words “I’ll see you tomorrow”.