soooooo I’m taking a break from my heist novel because the plot-tweaking process for that was getting frustrating and demoralising and I wanted to give myself something to do for a while that was not designing a complex con
so I thought
how about I write a short, fun, decidedly unserious gay romance novel!
kissing! disguises! lies! emotions! a whole lot of sex!
that will be just the kind of relaxing break I need!
it is now a week later and I have outlined every scene except for one, for which the description just reads [INSERT THE FUCKING CON HERE] because I have somehow managed to plot myself into a corner of my ABSURD ROMANCE NOVEL where A CON IS NECESSARY FOR PLOT REASONS because I am a deeply ridiculous human being and should not be allowed near a keyboard.
~ ten ~
the nights like this are the ones where you almost ask for help but you can’t seem to spit out the words through the mouthfuls of blood.
~ nine ~
the sky is the color of ink and the breeze sends a chill down to your bone marrow. you wonder if you’ll ever feel warm again.
~ eight ~
tears are dripping from your eyes and red is dripping from the tops of your thighs. you pretended you were invincible until tonight, played dress-up in an immortal skin. two thousand years ago, a princess of a long dead kingdom might have worn that sad smile.
~ seven ~
you could have been a city with eyes like that. you could have been so many things. you kissed boys with cigarette teeth and girls with vodka lips but you can never get the taste of ancient ruins out of your mouth.
~ six ~
if you tried hard enough, you could paint your mouth the color of cherries and cover up the scars. if you do, you will be beautiful. you really will. someone could almost love you someday.
~ five ~
you’ll never let it get this bad again if you make it through the night.
~ four ~
when you were seven you forgot to feed your pet goldfish and it died. you buried it in your backyard because you didn’t want to flush it. the only thing that matters at three a.m. is your dead goldfish, and everything else you’ve ever destroyed. nothing lasts if your hands linger too long. you’re sure this is how midas felt.
~ three ~
your body is a temple. your body is a temple. it is the sacking of jerusalem beneath your skin. nothing sacred is left here. all the holiness has drained from your bones.
~ two ~
you were never the calm before the storm. everyone says that tornadoes sound like freight trains. you are screaming at the top of your lungs and the wind is howling through your hair. in the right light, this could be poetry instead of pain.
~ one ~
this is when the shatter comes. it’s slipping through your fingers now. your heart is cracked stained glass. your smile is just punched-out teeth. your world is ending, the entire universe swallowed up in ten nine eight seven six five four three two one
~ zero ~