[I have apparently decided that I hate myself this week. Vague school related to-do list under the cut.]
Night Vale Inspires — Cecilos edition ♥
May you find love, Night Vale. Imperfect, and roaring, and not understood.
The last boy I loved spent Christmas day
peeling himself like a potato in front of old re-runs of Doctor Who
unwinding layer under layers of skin so he could show himself to me
and exclaim ‘look!
The pride in his voice alarmed me immensely and I dropped all the cutlery
and the five pound turkey
to tend to the pieces of him littering the floor.
It took me five hours to tape him back together again
and even then his ribs kept peeking through the skin everytime he moved too fast
I kissed his side and put a ribbon around the place I could see his heart beating
it looked like the moon lurking behind the clouds of his body
it reminded me of the organ-ic equivalent of sadness
his aorta looked incredibly lonely so I plugged it full of flowers and left space for the blood.
Another five to explain to him that it’s just not done
'get naked,' I advised 'next time you want to show me fragility. Don't pull yourself to pieces, you idiot.'
I think something must have happened to his ears because after that whenever I turned my back he’d be pulling himself into shapes I couldn’t recognise
'do you ruin yourself for every girl who has ever loved you?' I asked.
'I'm not destroying myself.' He told me 'I'm being new for you.'
Marvel’s ‘Avengers: Age Of Ultron' Booth Signing During Comic-Con International 2014