crack his ribcage open and find that there’s nothing left to take.
his heart is blackened by soot and ash and the anxiety had twisted his stomach into knots; over and over again with no hope of untangling because even an attempt would make everything swell and burst.
his skin is burnt with the stardust he could never catch, and it has made it’s home in his bones and beckons beckons him to come back and be apart of something greater. “i belong up there,” he tells Fetch one night and she is silent, “not heaven, no, but i want to be the air.”
he wants people to breathe him in and know that he was sad, that he was lonely and that the universe took his only brother away and gave him two strangers that knew nothing of his past. that knew nothing of the hand prints that once danced across him and how often he tried to scrub them off, til’ his skin was raw and red and he couldn’t see them but he could feel them.
his eyes are sad and his life is s