the macabre follows us home, to our sleep.
and Hope with her innocence wings flew away, away.
her raven hair was torn away, splattered red.
revenge tastes like blood.
in the end, aren’t we all copies of the same person, just molded in different manners?
they dream of the End.
when perfection fails in its purpose.
in the blood swirling along the drain,a skull gapes a pretty smile,blank eyes brimming with the ghosts of the past
is there a reason why my heart beats? is there a reason why my lungs continue to draw breath? the air that keeps me alive,the blood that flows through my veins,nothing is enough to fill the space within me,an empty vacuum of nothingthat used to be something that used to be everything but my soulContinue reading “missing”
these dreams ruin me. but they are the only thing keeping me alive.