the Broken Arrows (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thebrokenarrows) wrote2015-04-05 06:24 pm
thebrokenarrows) wrote2015-04-05 06:24 pm
Entry tags:
040515 //kris
they went out today and my song came on. one of my songs. so there i was. and i found that ols was using my sippy cup too and wearing my shades, so hell, it was like the day was made for me. walking down a city street to grab food... if only i'd had a cigarette. the wind was high and the sun was out and it was a nice day. and yet somehow i got to thinking. got to talking. ols had to ask. about the weight of my sins. god that's fucking melodramatic. but i don't really think of it that way usually. or think of it at all. except on days like today i guess.
but there was ols, like my little brother almost, or a cousin. someone i've taken care of for fucking years and years, only with a different face and a lot more grown. and a big fire truck came by and i felt him start flinching up so i moved him out of the way of the noise, because that's what i always did. just like i told him. it was my job once to protect you and you don't forget your old job. i still consider myself a sort of bodyguard for him, for them, if i'm around and something goes down. anyway he was looking at me, like this... tiny god who doesn't even know what he is, what kind of power he has in this place. and thinking, i could feel him thinking about me. and the red ribbon in my arms, the scars, the straight razor on my person at all times, the way i always come around when there's blood, the images he gets when he filters for me sometimes... the women--
nah. i still can't talk about it. i feel like he already knows what kind of monster i used to be but that's one scar i won't re-trace right now.
god, i want a cigarette.
but there was ols, like my little brother almost, or a cousin. someone i've taken care of for fucking years and years, only with a different face and a lot more grown. and a big fire truck came by and i felt him start flinching up so i moved him out of the way of the noise, because that's what i always did. just like i told him. it was my job once to protect you and you don't forget your old job. i still consider myself a sort of bodyguard for him, for them, if i'm around and something goes down. anyway he was looking at me, like this... tiny god who doesn't even know what he is, what kind of power he has in this place. and thinking, i could feel him thinking about me. and the red ribbon in my arms, the scars, the straight razor on my person at all times, the way i always come around when there's blood, the images he gets when he filters for me sometimes... the women--
nah. i still can't talk about it. i feel like he already knows what kind of monster i used to be but that's one scar i won't re-trace right now.
god, i want a cigarette.