x and <
+ 3 for you.
We're not so easily broken, you'll see. The dark, the dark, it binds, it binds us, our souls, to our bodies... Zombies of the light, you say? Perhaps. Perhaps.
(This is me pretending.)
Vague line of, between, in light and dark.
This might not make sense, on a day of a world, where we are, we feel what you feel. A sort of light and whimsical, cold and musical grace, like snowflakes from the sky.
A change of tone, a 'maybe' smile, hot, warmth, warm embrace, embrace the light and shun the dark like you were taught.
Burning butterflies, burning like fire beneath the wind, beneath the gusts and the picturesque scenery, they destroy.
I see it all so clearly, you must realize...
Don't have to be perfect.
You're not perfect.
You can change the mood so quickly. You, we, us, with your, our tainted magic and an imagination... Our imagination. Pretend, maybe? Is it pretending if it's not real? Is it just imagining?
Blue to red, icy dull red and hot to the touch blue.
Between the lines.