XXXII

(…)

He is tearing up my lungs with sharp fingers, plunging deep, blood-slicked, pulling flesh away from bone in ripping agony. And he doesn’t even see it. Certainly she will do nothing to stop it. (…) from thieving hearts and scheming minds pierce me. I have become the fifth wheel again. I should cut this short and drift away like ice- who cares? For ice is cold and sharp and hard. No one would miss me.

This is why I need Axel. I need him. To tell me he loves me and smile and tell me they don’t matter, only me. To take my arm and hover behind me while they see through him and he shields me from their carelessness. He is my brother and he protects me when no one else does. He cares for me and slaps me back and tells me, “You don’t need to be perfect.”

But I do. Oh, but I do. Because maybe, just maybe, if I’m perfect, someone will love me first and not second.

(…)

Feels like rain again.

(…)