death angels: smoke screen

[avia]

Have you ever wondered what it’s like to be me?

What it’s like to be blind?

What it’s like to know that you can kill with a look?

If I give you my eyes, what world would you see?

What dreams would you dream?

What lives would you drown at the bottom of your gaze?

What kind of person do you think you would be?

He dreams it each night, but he always wakes up before the answer. Always wakes up as his sight is going black, and he knows they can see, with their deadly eyes but it’s the metaphor his brain can think of, the only way he can imagine sinking into a world where your gaze crushes and kills.

He wakes up with a shock, blinking his eyes, running to the mirror and reminding, he’s not hir, he’s the keeper, he’s the one who has control.

As the relief curls through his spine, opening up into a wide, warm feeling, he feels a shame, too, for hating what se is that much that the relief feels so good.

No… it’s not that he hates what se is, that’s what he whispers in his own ear. It’s just that he’s not made to be the one, he doesn’t want to lose his self to that rage, he doesn’t want to become…

Such a monster…

It’s impossible to deny it.

He hates what se is, and he doesn’t know how to be hir keeper, knowing that fact.


[Note: More death angels that are not Tsurumi and Ichiro*, but, it was another one where the picture speaks to me and I can’t let go. I don’t know what these two are called, yet. I don’t know if they have more stories.

I... really like the poem thing in this? I just finished reading a poem and the echo stuck on my brain a little, I don't feel I can write this normally, but, I'm proud. Particularly since my brain is so tired.

*...Ichiro. Not "Ichigo", like I just typed. That is NOT what I meant to type! If Tsurumi's keeper was actually named Ichigo, I think I would die of... something. I really am tired... but, I had to take out the trash and then, I become a little un-tired so I don't want to sleep yet, also....]