The clock is ticking. Everyone must choose.

willmorgenstern:

Will, the boy who loved the same books she did, the same poetry she did, who made her laugh even when she was furious.

requested by broken—melody

Will you miss me
When there’s nothing to see

(…) “And I fear for you, too.”

“No,” Will said, hoarsely. “Don’t waste that on me, Tess.”

Only the very weak-minded refuse to be influenced by literature and poetry.

I felt the most complete despair and envy of Sydney Carton. Yes, Sydney, for even if he had no hope that the woman he loved would love him, at least he could tell her of his love. At least he could do something to prove his passion, even if that thing was to die.

I would have chosen death for a chance to tell you the truth, Tessa, if I could have been assured that death would be my own.

And, babe 
Are you there? 
Is it too late, 
Do you still care?

And it hurts so bad
That I search my skin
For the entry point
When love went in
And ricocheted 
And bounced around
And left a hole when you walked out 

I’m falling apart, I’m barely breathing
With a broken heart that’s still beating
In the pain there is healing
In your name I find meaning

The broken locks were a warning you got inside my head

I tried my best to be guarded, I’m an open book instead

Lately I’ve been wishing I had only one desire
Something that would make me never want another
Something that would make it so that nothing matters
All would be clear then

But I’ll take my time if you want to
And I’ll give you whatever you need
And I’ll wait a lifetime to give it to you

They can crack open a man’s mind the way you might crack open a walnut-and leave him screaming alone in the dark if that is what they desire.

I am a very well-trained child

Welcome to the City of Bones