HUMILITY

iv. ok enough with the bad queer subtext

DON'T TOUCH MY DIVINITY — it doesn't grow on trees.

I MISS THE OLD YESTERDAY AS I LONG FOR A NEW TOMORROW — i love that which i cannot have, and i have that which i cannot love. THIS IS THE ENDLESS DANCE OF HUMANITY — the godot that we wait for, the unachievable happiness we keep dreaming of.

BUT DO YOU KNOW OF WHAT YOU THIRST AFTER, OR IS IT THE HUNGER SPEAKING? is your want insatiable, or will you find it in the judgement? IS IT THE SAME TO WANT WHAT YOU WILL NEVER KNOW AND TO KNOW WHAT YOU WILL FOREVER WANT?

AND YOUR MARKINGS, I WARN YOU — the world will tend to them like necrotic, gruesome wounds, but they are your battle scars. they are the shadow of you that you, at last, leave this world with — DESPITE YOUR HEADSTONE'S RIOTS, DESPITE THE PROTEST OF THE SKELETON.

WE WILL SHOW THEM WHO WE ARE IF IT KILLS EVERY ONE OF US, AND IF OUR BODIES DO IT THEMSELVES.

AND WHO ARE WE IF NOT SINNERS?