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#saturn is one i have on my avatrice playlist. plus neptune
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bea is sleeping at last - eight
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get rec'd gayboy 😔😔  i don't know what i expected
"i was just a kid who grew up strong enough/ to pick this armour up/ and suddenly it fit/ God"
newbea watching the one-two punch of Mary & Shannon. burning up at the sight of it, like an object slipping into a decaying orbit towards some immense object. towards love.
knowing that it would be hers, someday. this weight that Mary carries. Beatrice knows it like she knows the reach of her left hook; the anticipation of a blow. the inevitability of loss.
God. fitting. ill-fitting.
"i want to break these bones 'til they're better/ i want to break them right and feel alive/ you were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong/ my healing needed more than time"
yeah, maybe she needed to fall off that motorbike. maybe she needed to break to come back together properly, wrapped in the love (hoodie) of those who love her.
"show me how to lay my sword down/ for long enough to let you through/ here i am, pry me open"
"here's a map, here's a shovel/ here's my achilles' heel/ i'm all in, palms out/ i'm at your mercy now and i'm ready to begin."
ava. a girl, a church. a girl, a roof overhead; a house you can't be thrown from. a house that won't collapse in on itself.
a girl like a star. a thing that burns and burns and dies, sudden, explosive. the aftermath of its death
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and bea, standing as an occlusion in that bright cloud. alone again. 😔
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