Hear me outAnd some days I feel like the saddest, smallest evil overlord king, my oversized, beautiful subjects doing my bidding, bringing me small sacrifices they think will please me, and then once they've won my favour they take a deep shuddering breath, knowing that for the moment, they are safe.
Hear me out
And I long for a day like this again
When I’ll never lose control
Safe.
(I don't know what that is.)
(Shhhhh. Leave her be. Leave her mine.)
Duncan did that this morning, sleepily handing me my headphones, digging through his music, finding something I hadn't heard before. He ran his warm hand down my back, pulling the blankets back up over me as I drifted off to sleep on a droning, intoning guitar sound that reminded me that I might need a new crown. Maybe silver instead of gold this time. I think silver might be harder, and I've eroded this one down to a halo, points worn to blunted dunes over a empty sea.
(The song was A.A. Williams, Control. What a masterpiece.)