Designer: Manikka
Resources: 1 2 3

I could not withold the lackluster which seemed to sprawl onto our airwaves. We are apart, not by roads or bridges, or emotionless kisses; but by worlds we've learned to encase ourselves in. No, I cannot help but detect the tyranny in your words or the inconsistency of who you've chosen to be; I am the one who lies behind every window you tap and door you knock on.

My eyes can stand to be perfectly oblivious to the spears in my stomach; they can see beyond the ache. None of me has to remain intact, when we've learned to fall and break and bend; to leave and fake and mend, so seamlessly, and none of me has to know.

But this knowledge limits itself to the tangle of my hair and desert of my lashes, to the ruse of my lips and the strength of my chin -it falls short of the weight on my shoulders, and the lock on my organs. Breaking into a metropolis of logic and lunacy was the least love could do to pick up its slack -that and, as always, falling into fiction.
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