one.* the worst thing about madness is that you know it until you embody it.

two. losing people is the hardest part, but it's also the simplest. isn't it easy to let go? never mind that grabbing hold once more is  nigh impossible, especially for people like you. (the people who wrest the night from the moon and spend hours laughing at the stars that dare to burn.)

three. graveyards are strange. who says the dead want to be remembered? you know they don't. when you die, just another body among many, you want to be forgotten, passed over, destroyed with the acid of time.

four. logic is a cage. you break down the bars with the sword from the stone and watch as they cower. they should.

five. it doesn't matter how much armor you wear when your eye is uncovered. you make sure that your own armor is up. words, wrapping your chest, your hands, and your eyes are the most dangerous part of you, because you can see what they won't. the dragon dies.

six. you laugh and drag him down with you, drowning the prince under the willow tree. he was foolish - to think you'd need saving, as if anything here could be more dangerous than a girl with blood on her hands and screams in her head and insanity in her bones. as if a dragon had any chance against you and everything you've seen, everything you've *done.

seven. you hope they will forget you. memories can be let go - don't you know this all too well? there was never a before the madness, only an after.

eight. you die too. you don't hear them any more.