
⠀⠀⠀with⠀⠀⠀__every⠀⠀⠀𝒷attle,⠀⠀we⠀⠀lose⠀⠀a⠀⠀little⠀⠀more⠀⠀⠀/⠀⠀⠀remember⠀⠀EVERYTHING⠀⠀that⠀⠀⠀we'd⠀⠀⠀https://xitter.cf/t.co/qAuem9cg3O⠀⠀for,⠀⠀⠀@pinfingers.
⠀ ˖⠀DO⠀YOU ⠀FEEL⠀ SAFE?⠀
Joined November 2021
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⠀ ⠀ ﹒ ⠀⠀⠀𓃦 ⠀⠀⠀ˍ⠀⠀⠀@pinfingers.
"i need a mental health walk."⠀ = ⠀ implying there's something wrong, ⠀ emotionally vulnerable, ⠀ attention-seeking.
"i need to secure the perimeter." ⠀ = ⠀ i need to secure the perimeter.
"english." ⠀ languid, ⠀ the pistol's slide back into its holster, ⠀ sated in its pound of flesh. ⠀ fear is well enough a tool, ⠀ but reason is far simpler. ⠀ he prefers this, ⠀ over the wailing, ⠀ the clawing. ⠀ an impersonal distance, ⠀ between roach and this..
"nikto. ⠀ tha's interesting." ⠀ not particularly.⠀ his cadence stays flat. ⠀ sight skirts to watch the crimson sticky on hands, ⠀ and his own fold in the small of his back. ⠀ song, ⠀ dance, ⠀ roach leads this waltz. ⠀ "the munitions picked up in gdańsk.
"no. ⠀ 's none of that, ⠀ nico." ⠀ clink, ⠀ glass onto counter. ⠀ fingers weaving through unkempt barnet. ⠀ there'd been a time, ⠀ back when this had been simpler, ⠀ when nico couldn't read roach as he does now. ⠀cryptic. ⠀ superficial. ⠀ walls and walls.
"'s on paper. ⠀ analysts, ⠀ i think, ⠀ they were following the money while we were in vicenza." ⠀ ears burn with it, ⠀ the shame. ⠀ his dread. ⠀ not enough wine in the world to drown it all out. ⠀ herculean, ⠀ the effort to peel himself off,
brows pinched, ⠀ lips pulling into a thin, ⠀ bloodless line: ⠀ aim–trained hand still steady. ⠀ squeeze to trigger, ⠀ ANOTHER* warning, ⠀ lodged in the space between boots. ⠀ "you hear me?"
flame; ⠀ the end of a fag, ⠀ burning low in the orange glint of dusk. ⠀ ringing and the thump-kick-thump of his pulse through his ears, ⠀ red dripping down from right to jaw.. ⠀
flatline ⁎POET retweeted
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ׅ ׅ ⠀ ⠀* ⠀⠀⠀ @preydrives ⠀ ᭡⠀⠀.
flatline ⁎POET retweeted
red half–moons mark palms, ⠀ fist clenching, ⠀ laxing, ⠀ clenching again. ⠀ two weeks, ⠀ and a hypothetical always banking on the horizon has finally soured the landscape of his reality; ⠀ a dream dreamt too long,⠀ the cold–rush of inertia.
A NEW HANDLER. ⠀ old faces, ⠀ some new. ⠀ A NEW NAME. ⠀ A NEW PURPOSE. ⠀ they were right. ⠀ they'd been stalling, ⠀ in italy.











