vwoolff:

concepts: me. fists held high, howling like a wounded animal. begging. crying hymns of violence. with glass on my throat, i order you to leave me. you. not a single slight of fear behind those wide troubled eyes. you carry me to bed like i’m a newborn bird, make me a nest of arms, legs, sheets and our weak - but still beating, hearts. you ask me if want to hear a story about a queen who couldn’t sleep so she turned into a wolf every night. tears are storming down my face. you a lay a kiss on my forehead and say you’re not going anywhere.