Desiccated Fireworks: A BBC Sherlock fanfic
Hey everybody! This is a "spectacular and creepy" poem about Moran/Moriarty or really Moriarty/anybody. The speaker is Moran or anybody. Please tell me what you think.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. This relationship is EXTREMELY abusive so you may need a cup of tea afterwards to cheer you back up. *HUG OF CHEERING-UP-NESS*
My singular nothingness only wished to be absent
To be nothing's nothing
Out of this world
Out of this plane
Out.
Those dry, too-hot nights,
faces lit by explosions
the fires illuminate
our dark recesses,
scrolled skin, scorched soul
I railed against my rank
would put bombs behind your back
And shoot them along with those you placed
I hoped
to push you away
It is easier to hold you at arms length than to hold you in my arms.
Your wholeness is frightening.
My wholeness is frightening.
Together we terrify, horrify, stupefy
We thought we could eat our darkness
or the darkness would eat us,
a deformed snack
Now I sit in your room with you and try not to be pragmatic
To let the consumption
overtake us
But this heat
is too sticky, too sweaty
too loose, too fragile
It blows our paper selves to the wind
to arc the solid blue
in outlined bones and weak (last) breaths
Maybe its time I left
Spend the rest of my sick days
in single candlelight
My head turns to go
But your clammy hand pulls me back, saying
"You're mine"