Actions

Work Header

i never should have been set free

Work Text:

 The protagonist leaned against a tree, strumming an acoustic guitar and wandering away from civilization, or so they thought. They stood up, continuing to run, as if they could escape their demise. They tripped, standing up and looking around; they were overlooking Cutout Town, and from the looks of it nobody was around to see them die. They sat down on the edge, strumming their guitar in the dead of night, and began singing.


I guess by the bloodstain of your lips and the wander of your fingertips
I should prove true to my emptiness and stay here

Well, I'm just a kid of ill repute and the skin I wear's my only suit
And you, you're just a substitute for the one that I hold dear


 They sighed, breathing in again for the next lyrics and staring up at the stars, unaware that below them Scriptliss and Wiscara had been walking by - probably either to their home or the little cafe that was open primarily at night. Scriptliss looked up silently, nudging Wiscara, and the two watched the performance silently.


You know, you could be anyone
Gods forgive my tasteless tongue
I never should have been set free

I claw my eyes, I skin my face
Beg somehow to be replaced
That's how we deal with boys like me


 They stood up, regaining their balance before continuing their song. This was the first time they'd spoken in ages, since it pained them so badly to vocalize, but they pushed through in hopes someone was listening. Their gaze continued focusing on the stars.


But I guess by this world so sick with loss and your services so free of cost
I should climb down off my rugged cross and lay with you

But you know, by now it's half past late and I only came here for escape
And you, you're just my next mistake, like me to you


 Scriptliss took out a phone, texting on it for a moment before looking back up. Wiscara glanced at him, and as if he knew what she would've asked, he quietly answered, "They're dying."


You know, you could be anyone
Gods forgive your unborn sons
I hope they don't end up like me

I drag my mind through streets of shame
Blame myself and forgive the game
That's how we deal with boys like me

But despite what you've been told, I once had a soul
Left somewhere behind, a former friend of mine
And I hate to speak so free, but you mean nothing to me
So if the streetlights, they shine bright, I'll be home tonight