do not assume that i am a child because i wear flower wreaths in my hair. in the wintertime, their petals shrivel to reveal the obsidian bones of a crown underneath.
❝ yeah uh , that was me. my brother helped too. ― . . . you don’t know what you’re getting into by asking me this. ❞ ichor runs violent , ceasing to still within her benevolent frame. ❝ it was a demon. yellow - eyed demon. nasty , son of a bitch ! but― listen , kid , i get that you need to know. but trust me . . . you’re better off in the dark. you don’t wanna know the rest. ❞
❛——. . . a demon.❜her body ached with indecision — she craved such knowledge , a desire to know the truth setting her core alight & it burned bright without fail ; but within those flames danced terror, apprehension , the question: did she really want to know the truth in it’s entirety ?❛you’re right , i need to know . . . i need to know what’s happening to me ,& being in the dark isn’t helping .❜
❛my mom used to tell me about a woman who’d just moved down the street from us , saved her life . . . our lives . . . from something evil .❜the same evil that boiled beneath her porcelain canvas /tainted blood ran through these veins .❛—— what was it ? ?❜