tired bleh

angels living among us, in cities and in towns, among the skyscrapers and the street corners

angels that wonder why they now bleed red instead of glittering shades of gold and silver

angels that carry pocket knives and switchblades everywhere they go; their concealed weapons are nothing compared to the divine blades and swords that they once held, but they’ll have to do for now

angels that constantly fill their heads with starstuff and light and knowlege and love, so that they can spread it among the humans that they’ve grown to love here

angels, when two cross paths on a crowded city sidewalk, that exchange careful glances and know that they aren’t alone here. they do not speak

Hera’s always been the best at making Ezra smile when his mind fills with memories of his parents of his life alone. 

She may not have experienced it. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t understand. 

( I’m still alive!! I swear!!

But here’s just a quick lil valentine I made up to send to your favorite Jooniepeople ay. )

“…any depression, suicidal thoughts, wanting to kill yourself?”

“No,” an easy lie, because what are the parameters? This instant? This week? This year?

The parameters are “since you started the Accutane,” implying new thoughts. But the thoughts are old, and ebb and flow inconsistently, and

Yea, I’m


And I want my prescription renewed and I’m afraid of the rabbit hole saying “Yes” would unearth. Besides, I’ve been vigilant, wary of the extensive list of side effects, the warnings plastered all over the packaging, the slip I have to leave a signature on every time a new prescription comes.

I’m tired and my joints ache and I don’t look how I feel, so

Yea, I’m


~ J. Fitz