i
am so weary
of
everything there were
days
that i feel
like
i can do it
i
can live like
i
used to but
i
just don't know
what
to do anymore
when
moments where i
feel
like everything is
so
pointless come should
i
let it? must
i
fight the feeling?
can
i even do either?

they say humans
are complicated or
rather they make
things complicated we
are the reason
for every single
thing that happens
in this world
then must i
blame myself for
feeling this way?

Why
can't
I
just
forget
the
feeling
of
failing
and
falling?
Why?

i
tried
to hurt
myself

and
explained that
i
didn't
mean it

i
looked
in her
eyes
and see
that
the knife
didn't
only pierce
my flesh
but also
her soul

-i am not the only casualty

she never
dreamed
of becoming
an angel

she
just wanted
to fly
and somehow

if
possible
touch the

         o      u
     l                d
c                         s

no, she
never dreamed
of going
nor entering
heaven
(she doesn't know if it even exists)

she
just wanted
to leave
the grounds
for a while
and see if
the fluctuations
are worth one's salt

-she's taking the biggest risk of her life

I didn't want to hurt you
But what would you do if the blade's digging too dip into your skin?
You push it back
And no matter what you do
You hurt the person holding--thrusting--it back to you from the other side

See?
We're both bleeding.

when you fall in love with an angel, you must understand that there are things you will never understand.

- when you first go to run your hands through her hair, her halo will slice your palm. and it will hurt like hell. she will mend it with the touch of one golden finger, and leave so abruptly that she is gone almost before you even blink. the thing you will see is her at the doorway. terrified eyes, blood stained hair.

(later, she will tell you that she never realized how breakable humans could be. when she explains what it takes to make an angel bleed, you begin to understand )

- ask her about the sky, about stars and suns and galaxies light years away. ask her whether or not the universe looks like a blooming garden. never ask about lucifer - she will become a soldier before your eyes.

and not, do not, donot, ask about god.

do not ask about rebellious older brothers and absentee mothers.

(do not infer about a war you know nothing of)

- in a science class you are taking simply for extra credit, your teacher will be talking about quantum physics. he will explain galaxies and refer to stars as "celestial bodies," but you won't be listening. suddenly you will only be able to think of the way her mouth curls at the sides, of the way her golden skin glows, of all the puckered scars that crisscross her torso, of the graceful arch on the bottom of her foot. celestial bodies are certainly on your mind but they are so much more than gas and light and heat and touch and --- oh heavens ---

when the teacher asks if you are alright, you will flush an even deeper red. supernova.

(at times it is lovely to be in love with an angel. but at other times, it is not)
- beware when you fight, it is like the world is ending. her anger conjures a thunderstorm, and soon the entire country is three inches deep in water. you shatter a picture frame. a bolt of lightning catches the house across the street on fire. you are screaming at the top of your lungs – something about duty, something about god – and there is a crash of thunder that shakes the foundations. the weathermen talk about the storm for days. you flinch and change the channel.

(no matter how right she is, she will always let you win)

- there are times when she won't visit for months on end, and when she finally comes back to you, she is not herself. there are new scars across her chest, and she does not speak. she sits with you in her arms for hours, her nose buried in your hair, and her arms squeezed tight, so tight. she does not cry. you do not cry.

you do(not) cry.

(but you do remember the miles and miles of white scarring. you wonder if angels are as immortal and unbreakable as they think)