He’s calm.
He lies in bed and doesn’t move.
He locks and loads a gun precisely.
He adjusts the time on his watch.
He ties his laces and leans back.
He lights the pyre and closes the matchbox.
He shuffles through old pictures.
He breathes in soft and quiet.
He takes his time and buttons up his flannel.
-x-
He’s a hurricane.
He’s blind rage and nosebleeds.
He rips a machete through monsters.
He uses his curse to save people.
He’s neck deep in a grave.
He’s clawing at her, kissing her wildly.
He can’t fucking breathe.
He punches at people until his knuckles shatter.
-x-
He’s Samuel Winchester.
He’s beat the devil.
👏👏👏👏👏👏👏 beautifully written
Ellen's Bar and Tab 