Destined for Darkness

a/n: This is pretty different from my usual stuff and I'm not very confident in it so please tell me if you like it or if I should delete it :)

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I first met you when they were picking at your stitches , trying to unravel your seams . I watched as your edges began to fray , barely resisting the urge to reach out and run my fingers along them just to prove you were as soft as I thought you were.

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When we found each other you were startlingly whole , like a full moon doomed to disappear. It was almost painful to look at . I’d learnt early on that whole things always shatter.

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They told me you were destined for darkness . I laughed and swore that no matter how many times you faltered you’d be the one who’d never fall.

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Your hands were gentle - smooth and absent of callouses , and I almost wanted to hold them . But they put a sword in them instead and told me to forge you into a blade like me.

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There was fire and explosions all around us . I was choking on smoke and wiping blood from my ringing ears when you appeared through the disorientation and muted, hazy world , your hand outstretched , pulling me to my feet with a strength I could only be envious of.

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Out in the open we rescued each other , back to back with a fierce protectiveness. Behind closed doors I carefully removed my jacket so you could pour antiseptic and press bandages to the heart balancing on my sleeve.

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You taught me how to dance amongst debris and dodge bullets as if they were only confetti.

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I was a candle; you, the match . Whenever a strong gust of wind made me quiver and flicker you renewed my flame.

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I noticed your wounds that cut deeper than skin - injuries indented internally , agonies etched eternally . Those were the kinds of bruises they pressed down on.

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They took a knife to all my weaknesses and drew your blood like it was paint . I would have crushed the world for you if you hadn’t buried your affections for me.

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I curse the distance between us and cradle the memories of your nearness , missing you like a harboured boat misses the sea.

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They tell me I am destined for darkness . I laugh hollowly, thinking they might be right , wishing you were here to tell me otherwise. But you are in pieces like every whole thing ends up , and I am being pulled down by helping hands and held under by vacant vows.

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By the time I look my fears in the eye and return to your side it is almost too late and I don’t realise that until it is too late.

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Behind closed doors you used to save me . Now there are no doors to hide behind , just the stench of impending disaster and the taste of an inevitable, inescapable fate.

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I’m worlds away again , tasting the blood you’re swallowing , feeling your broken ribs puncture my lungs , watching your world turn to the hell they promised me you’d bring. And as I’m coughing up your blood on the floor , I cry out, 'He was the one who would never fall'.

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There is no ground beneath my feet , nothing for my burning hands to grasp . The world is on fire and I don’t care enough to pray for rain.

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My weapon tumbles from my fingertips , echoing against the ground like a bomb falling from the sky. They said you were doomed for depravity but I know now, they pushed you towards the cliff , whispering tales of falling , telling you your wings were chains , sharpening your fingers into talons.

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You were the candle - calm and steady and serene . I was the wildfire, raging until everything was scorched and ashen and the world was shadowy and starless.

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Our reunion is a clash of white light and a red glow . The lightning is missing its thunder , the wind lacking its roar , and you - absent of your compassion.

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You look so whole and complete that for the first time, I start to wonder if fate is something escapable after all . But it’s too late for me . It’s always been too late for me.

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I want to press my hands to your chest but I am afraid of what I will find beneath your armour . I am terrified I will discover there is nothing beating where you heart used to pound.

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I long to pull you close but my hands are stained red and if I touch you I’d taint you.

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You taught me to dodge bullets but it’s so different when they’re fired from your gun . You showed me how to claw my way to my feet but it’s so much harder when it’s your hands holding me down.

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I can hear the words from my past self , the calm caring voice of the person I killed responding when you speak , holding agonised accusations instead of sharpened weapons.

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The air around us smells like smoke , like the wars we used to fight together and I realise I can abandon you (again) but I can’t save you (not this time). So I don’t do either.

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You always had such gentle hands . Now they are covered in callouses but empty of armaments and I wonder if I’ll be able to hold them in another life (because I never got to in this one).

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You always had such strong arms - the kind that reminded me more of feathered wings. I hope you’ll make it to the sky in the next life (because you only managed to fall in this one).