luna

was passionate about death...
Michael: was a passionate writer...


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4. four

 

LUNA

The rain started to paint my window, leaving the room barely visible, as his cold arms slowly moved to my back. His eyes were still distant, his touch cold but gentle, pushing my distasteful hair from my face, i move my hands to his cheeks. I screw my eyes tight for a moment trying to imagine him breathing, his cheeks flushed and his body warm, but that isn't him he wasn't happy that way, he wasn't living, he was dead in all forms but one, but now he is complete.. he is death in all its form.

His hands linger feverishly at the clasps of my bra, his eyes softening as if he was finally coming back to himself.. not back to life but back to him. To death 

"I just want you to be happy". his mouth moving closer to my ear, his words confusing me.

"Michael this feeling of numbness isn't happiness it's content.. it's a steady numbness it doesn't change, it is not an unexpected feeling but a feeling of familiarity. Feeling anything else, which is impossible, considering I’m a numb human would make me home sick. I crave this death Michael, I crave you, I crave this feeling of absolute numbness, I want to be with you, i want to be dead. Your distant eyes, your pale skin, your cold hands that warm me. Your absent breath that trickles down my neck I need more than this.. i don't want to die Michael I want to exist.. I'm currently non-existent.

MICHAEL

 Her hands were a soft cream, her nails were painted a dark tone of black, her hair an interrupted mess. Her breathing was slow, as she faced away from me leaning on me slightly.

"I just want you to be happy". i spoke humming close to her ear. Her face now slightly puzzled, as she rubbed her fingers.. Whenever Luna rubbed her fingers I knew she was thinking, just what she was thinking i didn't know, this was always a problem.

"Michael this feeling of numbness isn't happiness it's content.. it's a steady numbness it doesn't change, it is not an unexpected feeling but a feeling of familiarity. Feeling anything else, which is impossible, considering I’m a numb human would make me home sick. I crave this death Michael, I crave you, I crave this feeling of absolute numbness, I want to be with you, i want to be dead. Your distant eyes, your pale skin, your cold hands that warm me. Your absent breath that trickles down my neck I need more than this.. i don't want to die Michael I want to exist.. I'm currently non-existent."

If I could feel at this very moment, i know it would be like pieces of glass being thrown at me cutting me piece by piece.

Every word that tumbled out of this sad, beautiful girl was like poetry I had to write it down.

But I had to leave.

She can't think that being dead is great, beautiful or something she wants.

Being dead is a constant reminder of how you wasted your time.

I couldn't let her do that to herself.

If i leave after tonight I can observe her from a distance,  but i must stop interfering with this beautifully twisted, sad, and death wishing existence.

 

I must learn to disappear..

 
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