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I felt the moment my mind broke and I went somewhere so dark and crazed I didn’t even recognize myself. Eventually the chaos closed in around me and I welcomed the darkness as it crawled across my vision and pulled my tortured mind away from reality. I sank screaming silently into the abyss and was thankful when everything finally faded away.
Her cries tore at my soul and she felt like a shell with too many cracks. I could practically feel her soul leaking through my fingers.
He looked like a fallen angel coming to save me from hell. But I knew better than to call him my savior.
I would let him break me because he always put me back together so perfectly afterwards.
Why do we compare the heart to love? It’s violent if you think about it A bloody piece of me, I give to you Or you rip it from me Then it bleeds, it breaks, it skips a beat I hold the pieces in my hands and watch the road to redemption run red.
Except now I don’t think we only break once. I think we break a thousand times, again and again, so our pieces can find the ones we fit together with and those pieces heal—refining and reshaping each time. Maybe we need to break in order to expand and maybe we need to shatter across the universe in order to find the pieces of others who fit in those spaces left behind.
My two fallen angels—my villains—my antiheroes—were with me. They weren’t my saviors—but then again I didn’t need saving this time. This time I wanted to be pulled into the shadows with them.
