themidnightson: (The Predator)
[personal profile] themidnightson
He hasn't eaten in weeks. Months. Avoids people, because while gold can be passed off as a trick of light or a passing fancy of imagination, nothing outside of nature has purely black eyes. Except predators. There is no disguise. From the blackness. The purple shadows deepening beneath them. The urge for hunger, a hammering, clattering, shattering, ceaseless battering ram at the door of his mind louder than the pause before every sane thought, is ignorable.

He broke the world as he knew it. What is a small inconvenience to that.
He throws the fierce thirst into his steps, his need to find Victoria.
He needs to put as much distance from his words as possible.
To keep her safe; the last vestige of his life.









He starts back in the west

Tracing her across borderless reaches.

Land knows no dividing lines, animals either.

The laws of nature are simple; swift.

The Hunt. The Kill. Prey. Predator.

Man is not in the equation at all.

He is expendable.

Refuse.

Forgotten in the wind.






Lost like time keeps becoming.












The last he said one single word to his family



days ago ?





No, weeks. Too.



But --

They know when he'll be back now.
It's why he doesn't have to stop.
He can focus.
On this last task.


Before he'll go home.
Surrender to -------



survival


Their Perfectly Matched Love
and cookie cutter houses


and need; demands

eternally unequal promises


play the

silent oldest child-genius
cold fingers at the keys
beautiful Botticelli angel
legendary studious boy

heart untouchable

undeserving


in world where nothing matters

where he knows his place -- his worth.






He had her in Texas.

He lost her in the middle.

Mexico. Argentina. Panama.

Following the thinnest trail to Brazil.











She never made to Rio, he concludes

right around realizing he can't leave it.
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themidnightson

March 2012

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