the marrow from your bones

“Peter pan, little boy corpse” she sighs and hands him her fingers one by one, no jar, no formaldehyde, holding hands like they are wounds, wrapping digits tight around each other.
“Birdy, little woman,” he teases, nudging softer. His hands are cold and she muses, knowing if she sawed them open, edges of little teeth, she would find only sawdust and spidery, rusty nails for his joints.
They are old in the eyes, skin is smoothed and fine. Their eyes are wrinkled in the well of their pupils, are shattered in the iris color, they feel it in their head and soon begin to tire and wilt into chairs and each other and the floor until they are rumpled heaps of leaning lines.
“tell me if you see the stars.” He will go, all white wash and pure in her head. She will wait around for little boys with shells and sun for eyes, she will sit like this, she will smell his smoke and the way he hesitates in the middle of a speech and sigh.
“they should put my name in it, just to taste bitter.” He murmurs, against her hair. And they will sit until their cigarettes are ash, cylinders are full of ash. Their heads are clear, but now they are so numb.
“jars of keys, just for me.” She hisses, islands are full of sand and dirt between her toes, that hurting spot between her eyes she loathes. This is no better and she falls so often because he pulls her arms so close. Nothing will make her run anymore, nothing will make her jump. She wants oceanic, sharp waves of hair and a smile that makes her feel like she was reborn without any flames.
“I always liked bleached bones best,” he tearfully intones and has her little wrists so tight in his palm, she hopes to have her bones break open, because no one ever knew what was inside. She’s not naïve enough to expect piñatas but in the right state of mind to tolerate squelchy black and lung bits that circulate in her veins.
“I was the rabbit, where was the hat.” She hushes. Teeth all set, eyes all damp because her thoughts filter into the back of her sockets and riot for want of escape. He scrapes her cheekbone, little jutting thing with his edgy, rag man nails.
“Poor child, where will you hide when hero dear burns?” and his eyes are wet on her neck, she want to think its his mouth but she knows he is the shell, and where was the man?

Silver Bullet

“If you wake up in a different time, in a different place, could you wake up as a different person?”

Kairi opened her eyes and drew back in shock, metal darkness, lights on and off from above.
A seat was plush under her and she noticed the man sitting by her, his twiggy body slouched and the hood dark over his face.
He awoke with a small cough and she saw the drops under his eyes, the freefall of wispy red strands from under his coat.
“Where are we now?!” Kairi snapped, eyes tight, feeling ever so done with games, skipping places, head feeling light.
Axel, who it obviously was, dug into his bag and barely glanced at her. The train rocked and her grip grew tight and pale on the seat, she felt her anger boil over and suddenly lurched over and grabbed his arm, bare and smooth under her little fingers.
“You have had no answers for me, And I Want them now.! Tell me where we are and where Sora is!” She hissed, her nails digging into his arm, his eyes narrowed and he leaned over dropping the bag to his feet, roughly grabbing Kairi’s shoulders sending her deep into the seat, spine scraping the hard back.
She glared and ignored her back grinding against pain and her stomach eating at her and how tired and confused she was, Digging her nails into his arm until she knew he was bleeding.
“All I’m gunna tell you is we’re running, skipping, jumping worlds. Alright with you, sister?” He sneered, teeth achingly white and the hair slipping out from his hood horribly red.
She whimpered in response and he leaned in,
“I Bet this is kind of like hell for you, right? Well, if whoevers chasing us gets you, you’re going to wish this train got into the biggest crash of the century.” Her eyes widened and their noses brushed, before he abruptly released his death grip and resumed rustling through his bag. Kairi rubbed her back and glanced around, the train was relatively empty besides a few stragglers sleeping in the back, she guessed at it being night and looked out the window besides Axel to see granite, stone, plastic whooshing by.
The microphone grated something inaudible and Axel perked up,
“Our stop, missy.” He grunted, shouldering his bag and grabbing her arm, motioning her into the aisle and the doors.
She smoothed her dress, little folds, slight creases, acting with confidence she didn’t really feel and calmly stepped out the door beside him, heels digging into the ground; a foot shoeless she noticed, as the train groaned and halted.
She eyed him from the corner of her sight and acknowledged his grip softening as he tried to again shoulder the bag on his thin, broad shoulders.
She took a breath and stepped onto the platform, dark except for high lights giving the room eerie orange light, and sprinted in the direction she hoped was a door, a wormhole, black hole, Sora.

Fingertips

Kairi wrinkled her nose as Axel lit his cigarette, her eyes were heavy as she opened them.
His Carmen eyelashes brushed his cheek as he looked down, tapered teeth crunching his lip between them.
He glanced over at her, and she was immediately shocked at the acid tone of his eyes, all at once bright and harsh.
“You’re awake.” He noted, Eyes collected but dark. She was in a dusted corner, the room white washed and warm with the lemon sun from the window.
“Where Am I ?” She asked , her voice gruff from sleep, slowly smoothing her hair.
He puffed smoke through his nose, a dragon with lurid eyes and veins through skin.
“No fun in that.” He lowered his head, spikes brushing upwards.
She got up slowly, testing her legs and reaching for the window, he was all at once in front of her, teeth sharp and arms oily leather, she shrank back, spine shuddering against the windowsill as his cigarette dropped from his mouth and crunched under his feet.
“Wouldn’t advice that, girly.” His eyebrows twitched.
She twisted in defiance and caught a glimpse of darkness before he grabbed her hip harshly and shoved her.
She stumbled away and caught her arm on the wall.
“Whats out there that you don’t want me to see?!” She rasped angrily.
His hands were on her face, a finger on each eye as he shut them.
“Nothing.” He murmured darkly and she felt horribly tired.

World

“Where are we?” She whispers.
Kairi denies it but she’s come closer to him, and his fingers rub her wrist.
They are surrounded in the oily unknown, and she’s becoming his coat until it’s remembers just who he is, what her wrist aches like when he crunched it in his hand to drag her into the portal.
She stiffens and tries to grab her arm away but Axel holds fast, grip punishing. Red eyebrows come up,
“Not so fast, kiddo. I Haven’t exactly got it written in paper you’re not sprinting when we get there.”
And she gnashes her teeth because she’s fifteen and he’s right.
“Oh, you’re charming really. I have no idea why Sora would leave the side of such a lady.” Axel simpers.
“Whatever.” Kairi sneers, nose up, eyes a little hurt, free little arm on free little hip.
And she is so young, so undeniably juvenile Axel kind of likes her a little bit.
Just the way her teeth look when she sneers he concedes.
He’s pretty sure his make the same motion when he sneers,
It gets under his skin and he rushes out of the ink, tasting it in between his teeth.
Its bright and clean, shining in his eyes.
“Where-“ Kairi begins again but Axel digs his fingers into her vein and she fell silent.

I Dont like this. I Really feel like its dumb. But I Want to keep trying to write them outtt ..errghhh

Bird Bones

He bites his tongue to ribbon when he’s conflicted,
And when he decided to kidnap, she wasn’t a kid, that girl his tongue bled into his stomach.
He didn’t grab her wrist; he grabbed her bones through the skin.
Bird bones, little pink nails scrabbling at his arm.
He would swear he knew what he was doing the same as she knew his tongue was in pieces.
She thought her bones were breaking and he worried over the possible absence of his tongue.
He said she had guts and he aches to see them.
She said he was being unfriendly, but the way his hair spiked made her think of Sora and it made her sick.
But when he drags her into the oily black, the swirls of blue blank,
His thoughts are on the little wrist that’s shattering in his hand.
Not Roxas.
Not anything.
Just the bird bones.