[private] Out with the golden we sew // Rapt

[Kagerus]

Out with the golden we sew, and the lower past that crawls.
Now, to the doorway you run, to the girl that's not lost.

He's dazed, and I can tell. He reeks of birth and sweat, looks like he is called: rapt. The taste of him in this state leaves me trying and failing to swallow, leaves the contents of my stomach pressing further and further up my esophagus.

Abysm.
How suiting.
Named after the place of his conception.
My skin shudders at the memory.
Shudders, because I'd just wanted to feel him beneath my skin then; because I'd been naive; because the way my name sounds coming from his lips made me felt like I could remain in a liquid state permanently.

"He's -- beautiful." The words coming jarringly from me, as I stare at the tiny creature - spindly and sticky, with eyes that can't seem to focus. Somewhere inside me, the urge to clean him kicks me in the gut; but I can only frown and look away. I inch away from them, away from what should have been, away from that which leaves me utterly confused.

"I'll --"

And, as always, I disappear into the underbrush, wishing that that was enough to keep my demons at bay.

Kagerus

sweet nothing

@[rapt]