I am disintegrating.
When I scratch at my skin,
I find dirt beneath
my fingernails.
In the shower, mud bleeds
off of me like it’s all I have
in my veins.
I’m choking on dust
in the back of my throat.
This body is crumbling.
Promise when you find me
someday, a pile of dirt
on the bed, promise
you will plant something, a flower
or a tree, in what is left
so some good can come
of me.
fic: hold on to your stars
vashtaneradas.livejournal.compairing: harry styles/louis tomlinson
rating: pg. ish.
word count: ~16,000
disclaimer: own nothing/know nothing obviously. completely fictionalised.
summary: au; harry’s in the army, louis’ back home, and ninety days is a lifetime.
