Restless

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I'll Be Good

He was tired. This was clear from the touch of red that lingered seemingly forever under his weary gaze, and the rings that layer the darken​

skin under his bloodshot emerald gaze. He was tired of restless nights, standing on his balcony gloved hands cupped around a steaming mug. Tired of running endless scenarios over in his head, trying to justify if he was in the right or if he was in the wrong. Trying to justify if he himself could have changed the outcome, could there have been a path he missed? Was it the day? Was it the time? Was it something wrong with him, deep down that he might overlook because of his own foolish self-pride. Would he ever admit that he was in the wrong? That he was the failure? No. That would only give satisfaction to those that tried to pave who he was for him. He wasn't weak, he would not crave to tears, he would not admit that he was poisoned. Though on the inside it restlessly circled in his brain, snaking out his every will to fight it.

He furrowed his thick brows, bringing a warm gloved hand up to rub over his face. He was doing it again. It was so simple to act like he​

didn't care on the outside. However, inside it would never stop tearing him apart. Twisting lines of strings seemed to draw him together without the will to break from them they seemingly would just tie him tighter. The question was, would that will ever be broken? It never seems that way, for some days it would stretch but never truly break and once it tightened, again and again, the will to break from it only seemed to slip further from reach.

As he gazed into the distance, it was an image in his head that he was her before him. It was her hand pulling the strings, her voice that​

reminded him why he didn't do love. Love is poison, it's not a true feeling in his eyes, but rather something built into the minds of those in this world who need something or someone to keep them together and alive. He didn't need it, he didn't need love. It was what poisoned his brain, a rotting desire that cursed him to twist the strings into cutting his heart open. A gloved hand reached up, rubbing his now throbbing forehead and a short curse fell from his lips. It would be another restless night.

@Dreamaxia @PuffyPigeon​