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For the broken ones who are in need of something dark, morbid, and beautiful.
“I’ve tried to explain this to you many times, James. You don’t get it—you never will,” I mutter unenthusiastically. I used to get upset when he’d ask. But luckily for those who haven’t experienced it themselves, it is a hard feeling to understand.
“Everything dies in the fall. It’s kind of nice, isn’t it?”
“For anything. Someone, something, anything. Wait for a devil like me if you have to.”
“You should wait… and it doesn’t have to be for anything specific. I’m just saying—wait for the weight of the world to pass. Wait until the tremors that wrack through your skull drift into the depths again. Wait until the sun rises, and the light makes you feel a little less pointless.”
“Remedium meum.”
