Makino

Pâro

(wip) Ангел
/God’s first lover./

_{Can you see the color of my rage?
The color of my pain?
You are the artist,
Are you not?}

I would rather you find me dull,
Foolish, and stupid,
So you question why you continue to gravitate
Towards me,
My visage,
And my name.

So you wonder why
That silly little girl
Has got her hand in your chest.
/color/Why sharp nails upon an
Unskilled hand
Cut your heartstrings so neatly,
/color/Why pretty lips with such silly words,
Were able to say such calculated lies,
In such a sickly tender voice,
Enough at a time to pinch your mind.

Why sharp blue eyes
Are superficially naïve,
Shifting the look I held
Every time you said my name.

An Angel I was dubbed,
And as a woman I sin.
You will never,
Ever,
/red/Love again.

/ins image./

Pâro

I envy the stars.

☆
They burn so brightly, a pattern against the night;
Beautiful? Sure, beautiful to the eye, but beautiful in nature as well.

So far from us, they are only mere dreams.
We may not reach for them with expectation
to grasp, for they are something untouchable.
Something unobtainable.
Something one cannot own.
Something that could never be tamed,
So that even if you could get close,
They would burn you to a crisp.

We cannot claim a star,
Taint them with our grasp.

I envy the stars,
Purely because I wish to be a speck against the black sky.
Hidden away from the world’s hateful hands,
To only be thought as pretty,
And to be recognized as something that will never truly be owned.

My bruises would fade from my flesh,
Mingle into a fiery gold one would fear clasping,
One would fear challenging.
The tired eyes of mine would witness no lies,
My heart would feel no bitter betrayal,
And my lips would no longer speak troubled words.

When I die, I do not fear what is to come;
For while I know I do not deserve the peace I seek,
The peace I want,
It is alright to dream.
If the Reaper shall watch me,
I shall watch him too.
I shall challenge the cold gaze of death with my own,
Challenge it to take me far away from everything I know,
From the depths of this world,
From the happinesses I have known,
From the pains I have endured,
And to place me into that black sky,
forever.

Men vs. Women Race to 1000: Version 2.0

423

Men vs. Women Race to 1000: Version 2.0

422

Hey you

@coughsyrup

Welcome, hopefully you’ll find something you like here and a few partners to write with.

Pâro

---

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎

---

” Look at me just like that. Your eyes are so black I can’t help but get lost, darkness has always pulled me but not quite this hard. You can tell, you can sense my intrigue. Chase me like that, like I’m a faltering dream.

You know what I want and somehow you provide. I’ve never had a type and I won’t let our minds collide, but I constantly see myself next to you when I can’t sleep. Your arms seem a little more comfortable and your lips somewhat inviting.. Just kidding, that was bait and you were certainly biting.

I can tell from the way you talk you hate yourself and many others. I can tell deep within that sleepy voice you’ve been hurt and sore. I can tell now, too, that you don’t fear death, and for some reason I can’t help but to admire your strength. You take my bruised hands and listen to my heart race, you caress soft cuts and pinch tiny blue marks scattered on my skin. I know you wish for the same taste.

Please. I want time to end if it means I get to stay. “

I think I may be getting lost within the life of a man who died before he grew up, who stared right at the reaper and told him to go home. I think I may be troubled with a boy who causes harm but always means good, who looks too deeply and too strangely to me.

I think I may have met my match, because when I speak he does not fall victim and when he talks back I see myself. I feel at a loss and confused, unsteady.

This man is picking the locks to secrets I hold, and I fear that someday I will be too tired to push his hands away from tampering. From plucking, from seeing me down to my lowest moments and saddest memories.

-Ophelia (WIP)

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

108

𝑰𝓷𝓲𝓺𝒖𝓲𝓽𝐨𝓾𝒔 𝑯𝒆𝓪𝒓𝓽𝒔. ( The Serial Killer's Tune)

◣Anastasia Noir◥

Silence? Were their screams silent as you tore through their flesh?

Some would say silence speaks more words than we can comprehend, but silence is simply that.

Quiet and void. A sanction for questions and misunderstandings, silence proves both innocence and guilt. She hated silence. Anastasia narrowed her eyes ever so slightly at the man, circling him now.

Click.

Colten Bonds..

Click.

Did you kill that little redhead for the fun of it?

Click.

Did you make her watch as you massacred her family?

Click

Where is her body?

The woman had walked her way around the chained man, admiring his restraints; chains that held his pride to the ground, that kept his freedom solidly locked. He was bound like a dog, a vicious dog that didn’t know when to stop biting. The corner of her lip twitched ever so slightly as she sat across from him.

The table should have been longer.

“Quiet, hm? That’s okay. We have... One whole month! One. Whole. Month. We’ll be on friendly terms soon enough.”

Her head lifted to rest atop her right fist, her left disappearing into her pocket. They both may have been snakes, but only one would fall prey to the other. There were many ways to break a criminal, she just had to find the way that worked for him. With dark eyes drilling in on the man, she pulled forth a pen, dark but small. Anastasia tapped it lightly against the desk, her smile widening.

“Usually, pens are for writing..”

She lifted it a moment, gesturing towards him to grab it before sliding it back gently into her pocket.

“We won’t be having any problems, Colten. I don’t know what went on between you and the man before me, but I am not him. I'm better than him. I want to understand you, I want to understand why you’ve done the things you’ve done- if you were to blame. If you can’t talk to me, I can’t help you. I’m not here for those detectives, I’m not here to get you into more trouble or to judge you. I’m here to understand.. Will you let me understand?”

She doesn't know what’s worse: to not know what he is and accept his silence, or to lurk within this wicked games, and find out herself. Oh how she loved this game of minds in the same way she hated his crimes- wholly and with her entire being.

One month only.
And she will watch him bleed.
And she will watch him fall.

Current Mood in One Gif

Men vs. Women Race to 1000

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