He didn’t want them to think he was sad. He wasn’t; in fact, he was feeling quite little, like he were made of quite little
Like he would unbutton his skin and tug it apart to reveal great emptiness where blood should be
’My soul.’
His wings must’ve been attached to his soul — perhaps, they had been his soul — because since the fall, he’d felt this way, missing something..
— Dec 10, 2025 08:20PM
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