I stared into the eyes of dirt,
And knew that mud would soon form within,
If only they could.
I turned from you,
Pressed to find a colder heart,
Somewhere...
Somewhere deep within my own.
And though I'd spilled so much blood,
Times past,
Decades before,
This wilting strand of acceptance I held close,
Haunted me forevermore.
-Xavier Delacroix
A piece written for a character. I think I may make this into a thing.
-S.C./Sheron Parris
