𝓶𝓪𝓻𝓲.

a thousand different stories, a thousand different lives, bleeding into one.

⠀ 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 * 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝑆͟𝑁͟𝐼͟𝑃 .ᐟ ⠀

twenty five, still alive, you'll find me chronically online.

her holy body has an angel's scent.

the blood is rare and sweet as cherry wine.

﹠̲ i’ll raise hell for you.

ᅟ 𝒔o if you're too tired to speak, sit next to me because i, too, am fluent in 𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 .

how humiliating to project his emotional trauma on a woman that lightly resembled the ghost sitting upon his shoulders— the brown eyes, they caused him to have this moment of weakness; the lovely glistening of a warmth he longed for. “yes. I’m sorry. I would like to try one +