you cant kill me cuz im already inside you
even after it all, you still tell me you worry about it. you still feel out of place. alone. awkward. you tell me you belong to everyone and no one all at once. i correct you and say you belong to me. you smile. i don't see how you can feel that way. you were there, you know what happened. i guess i can't say i thought this would be easy. i volunteered to be here, to watch you suffer and hurt. i don't think they understand. they don't realize how broken you are over it.
it has dulled you, subdued you.
you have me refuse your friends, turning them away and closing the door sharply in their faces when they decide to pay you a visit. i know they've started to think that this is my doing, that i'm keeping you here with me. things are easiest when we pretend not to know what they say about us. the boy who lived and the death eater, the *malfoy*, all alone in that little house. 'he's gone mad, you know. that's so sad. such a shame' they don't understand.
they aren't here, watching you struggle and curse and try once again to use your wand, to regain just an ounce of the abilities you lost so suddenly. without your magic, you tell me you feel dull. mundane, like your muggle family and your fat son of a bitch cousin. but i know you aren't.
it doesn't help when i say i love you anyway, but atleast you smile.
it's raining.
after i've watched you cry and pace and put your face in your hands, you decide you want to be comforted and so now my fingertips are leading my hand across the gentle, sloping concave of your stomach.
..you know how it hurts me when you cry, so i can't say no to you when you come to me, needing me, pale and naked and so sad..
..so sad, harry.
over skin like shifting sands and then beyond the terrain of your hipbone. i'm kissing you and your so close to me..
i'm lucky. i know that. there were times when i was certain that i'd never get to feel you this close to me again. close enough that your breath hits me back behind my ear when you speak to me. and you are. your whispering. these are secrets your telling me.. but they're not new. you tell me about the sorting hat, about the dream you had back in your first year. how you should've been in slytherin but were afraid..
you know, there were times durring the war when i thought i'd lost you. and eventhough you lived, sometimes i can still feel the loss of you this strange greif, as if your ever slipping farther and farther away untill...
we lay in bed in the dark and i listen to you breathe. i know i could touch you, wake you up. i could whisper to you how frightened i am, how much i need to be in your arms. but i have to be the strong one.
and now your talking about *it* again.
what he said before you killed him. telling me about the dreams you have, where your using his wand instead of yours, dreams about floods of snakes coming towards you. i hate the way he frightens you, haunting you even in death. when i try to tell you there's no way.. that it isn't possible, you look at me with those green eyes and then you look away...
even after it all, you still tell me you worry about it. you still feel out of place. alone. awkward. you tell me you belong to everyone and no one all at once. i correct you and say you belong to me. you smile. i don't see how you can feel that way. you were there, you know what happened. i guess i can't say i thought this would be easy. i volunteered to be here, to watch you suffer and hurt. i don't think they understand. they don't realize how broken you are over it.
it has dulled you, subdued you.
you have me refuse your friends, turning them away and closing the door sharply in their faces when they decide to pay you a visit. i know they've started to think that this is my doing, that i'm keeping you here with me. things are easiest when we pretend not to know what they say about us. the boy who lived and the death eater, the *malfoy*, all alone in that little house. 'he's gone mad, you know. that's so sad. such a shame' they don't understand.
they aren't here, watching you struggle and curse and try once again to use your wand, to regain just an ounce of the abilities you lost so suddenly. without your magic, you tell me you feel dull. mundane, like your muggle family and your fat son of a bitch cousin. but i know you aren't.
it doesn't help when i say i love you anyway, but atleast you smile.
it's raining.
after i've watched you cry and pace and put your face in your hands, you decide you want to be comforted and so now my fingertips are leading my hand across the gentle, sloping concave of your stomach.
..you know how it hurts me when you cry, so i can't say no to you when you come to me, needing me, pale and naked and so sad..
..so sad, harry.
over skin like shifting sands and then beyond the terrain of your hipbone. i'm kissing you and your so close to me..
i'm lucky. i know that. there were times when i was certain that i'd never get to feel you this close to me again. close enough that your breath hits me back behind my ear when you speak to me. and you are. your whispering. these are secrets your telling me.. but they're not new. you tell me about the sorting hat, about the dream you had back in your first year. how you should've been in slytherin but were afraid..
you know, there were times durring the war when i thought i'd lost you. and eventhough you lived, sometimes i can still feel the loss of you this strange greif, as if your ever slipping farther and farther away untill...
we lay in bed in the dark and i listen to you breathe. i know i could touch you, wake you up. i could whisper to you how frightened i am, how much i need to be in your arms. but i have to be the strong one.
and now your talking about *it* again.
what he said before you killed him. telling me about the dreams you have, where your using his wand instead of yours, dreams about floods of snakes coming towards you. i hate the way he frightens you, haunting you even in death. when i try to tell you there's no way.. that it isn't possible, you look at me with those green eyes and then you look away...