Forgotten leaves floating on the tangled wind dripping from her mind. Black hole clutching at a beating heart made of softened stone. Once there was strength in her skin and beauty in her bones.
Now all that is withered down with the grace of an alchemist’s hand degrading the steel; melting the ice to become a solid mass of raw pain that settles neatly behind her sternum. Tears wash pale skin of hallowed cheeks while yet a maniacal disguise falls upon her flesh, locking her jaw tight behind a vacant smile and laughing in proper places like a doll.
But she had to do it for him didn’t she?
Some people say they are a fool for god. But this dear child severed those gold tipped, powerful wings from her spine on the whim that perhaps this man might hold her to his chest, resting her treasured, smooth cheek upon the sweat and grime of the flesh hiding his soft beating heart. That his song be the only sound she hear which could rival the hymns in her world above. That his arms might hold her round her back and warm her with their kindness and mortality.
Some say they are a fool for God. But God’s own angelic child had been a fool for another all along.
And he knew exactly what it meant to keep a pet angel in his pocket.