Cookies-and-Death

Axel Sinclair sat in his cell, his legs folded in front of him. He stared at his mattress in disdain. He hated blue. It was such an ugly color. This place truly was Hell, giving him this atrocity to sleep on. Not that he ever slept. Even if he could, the "bed" had such little stuffing to it, it was more like a comforter, folded over into two thin pieces, guarding his body from the metal frame beneath him. Zexion, one of the less-hardened criminals down the hall, had his old cot. It had been newer, Axel having been lucky on his time of arrival. They'd traded. Axel's bed for a weeks worth of Zexion's medication. Sure, Zexion would be strung out

Isn't it Amazing? Isn't it amazing How you seem To have been created just for me? How you have all those dips in your form, And when you hold me near, I fill them up? Isn't it amazing When our fingers intertwine so seamlessly That it's hard to tell whose is whose? When the only way I know my fingers are my fingers, Is by my nail polish? Isn't it amazing Feeling whole like this When our noses bump? Feeling like I'm high Just because you accidentally Touched your face to mine? Isn't it amazing That I managed to make myself feel so complete By accepting how much I love you?

Axel Sinclair sat in his cell, his legs folded in front of him. He stared at his mattress in disdain. He hated blue. It was such an ugly color. This place truly was Hell, giving him this atrocity to sleep on. Not that he ever slept. Even if he could, the "bed" had such little stuffing to it, it was more like a comforter, folded over into two thin pieces, guarding his body from the metal frame beneath him. Zexion, one of the less-hardened criminals down the hall, had his old cot. It had been newer, Axel having been lucky on his time of arrival. They'd traded. Axel's bed for a weeks worth of Zexion's medication. Sure, Zexion would be strung out