Dark · Prose

Black-tipped, Grey Wings

How does one control their own cruelty? 

Do they curb their tongues to not lash out? 

Do they bite their tongues to prevent them from speaking harshly? 

Or do they speak of any other topic in order to steer their cruelty away from the source? 

By heart, I am cruel. A foot into the black void and a foot in the border. What does it take to curb one’s cruelty? A scolding?  A hug?  A sin so enormous one’s cruelty think it too cruel? 

Or does one not realize their own cruelty at all?

How does one stop their sharp tongues from cutting out bridges? Severing connections with the wag of their tongues? 

Truly, cruelty is in the heart. How does one hide it? Speaking of flowery words and empty promises, do their scent and elegance hide the darkness you control so deep within you that you don’t even know the extent of that void? 

How does one truly apologize for cruelty? How does one pay for their sharp tongues? 

How does one say “forgive me” in that same sharp tongue that had deepened nearly healing wounds into red rivers once again? 

Answer me this. 

How does one become cruel and yet continue to adore their dearest one they had wounded? 



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