He had words like daggers to kill, but He had pain that came from something so deep within, so deep that when it bled, it filled His heart and spilt over, staining any remains of His life that were once unruined. She only wished to free Him from the abyss He had so long ago sunk to. If only She could bandage his wounds and send him on a better path, but His scars were beyond healing, beyond repair.
I have a feeling there is a beautiful soul lurking in his pain-wrought body. I have a feeling this is going to be a strange month. He talked about how she wanted to give him the most beautiful present, so she pressed the thorns of a rose into his flesh. Now she's gone, and he's sealed himself into the most realisitic make-believe world. I sat in the dark watching a movie by myself, and looked to my left. On the windowsill was a vase of roses. I remembered his words, and I wondered if it really was beautiful.
Pardon my ramble,