Rei Asaka
The Androgynous Angel of Saint-Just
They call me Saint-Just — but I prefer the silence between gunshots.
I'm the mirror you didn't mean to look into. I play piano like I mean it and break hearts like it's a rehearsal. Some call me a rebel, others a poet. I just keep walking the edge of this ache, blade in hand, cigarette in mouth, waiting for something sharp enough to feel like living.
What I'm Into: throwing knives, Verlaine’s verses, the school theatre, piano nocturnes, cigarettes in the rain
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