Last night, I burned it all—all the remnants of my little soul. They twinkled lovely, with all the might only something perishing can really yield. Pity it lasted so short, but for a spell it takes to make one photo. Therefore, soulless now I am, quite becoming of a walking dead.
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carve the name into your arm
- mor
- what you see is what you get
All my original writings are licensed under a Creative Commons Licence.
get dusty
get sticky
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