his wings are prettier clipped. a beauty in a fine, gilded cage, never to know hardship. my sweet songbird, soft and delicate. the bones of his neck so fragile, i could break it with such ease. the pressure wouldn't even strain me. he'll still never try to fly.

do you remember what i told you that late summer evening, hoping the song of the birds would out drown my whispers? do you remember pretending you didn't hear me, just so the moment could last?

don't say it. don't say that four-letter-word. you don't get to do that to him, you don't get to be so selfish and make him weak. he carries the weight of all their lives on his shoulders, and he won't be able to hold them if all he's thinking about it is making it home to you.

he leaves people behind. it's what he does. they use him up because he loves them, because he has so much to give that he burns with it. and when they're warm, when they've had their fill, he leaves because he's cold; a flame choked.

please know, when i drift off, it'll be like every night lately. i dream about you. because it's always you.

i wanted. and this want festered within me, from infection to feverish desire, to have his sinew between my teeth and my tongue lapping at his pulse. / my lips, on his vein.

i would defang you, i would pluck your canines from your jaw. i would plunge my fingers into the bleeding holes of your gums. you wouldn't be a monster if you couldn't hurt me.

do you understand, what hunger does? it transforms you, reshapes you from a man, into an animal. it strips you back down to the most base instinct; survive.

he digs his thumb into the bruise, makes tender flesh break anew. "to remember me by."

in turn the blade sinks until it hits bone, twisted with the very affection by which they'd known each other. "wear the scar, and i will know you again."

he is luring you in to make you easy prey. the more likable he is, the more deadly he is. but because two can play at this game, i stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek. right on his bruise.

what do you think death is like? i like to think of the first law of thermodynamics, that no energy in the universe is created, and none is destroyed. every bit of energy inside us, every particle, will go on to be something else.

i want to weep, she thought. i want to be comforted. i'm so tired of being strong. i want to be foolish and frightened for once.