

Farewell to DramaPages sink to embers panic in the skies bleed, pseudo-soul this is thy replyFarewell to Drama
no, you are not weak sober chronicler, I am here. I am, like always the glory days of November pawned for a life.
the stars in my arms are the scars of your heart and somehow you have me there suspended in the cold walls of your Superior Vena Cava where the taste of red is the vision of death.
and I'm slowly dying
to live inside you, I swear. please breathe me back to life when you need me again. the next fall to grace th


Taste the RedKatsuatsu falls to ruins static in torture bleed mortal mind restless in raptureTaste the Red
yowa mushi, I am-- the insane writer. and you are several pages of my kibarashi and I owe you this Autumn.
meander in the insides revel in te skies of my Superior Vena Cava and it's cold walls to touch where the beauty of doubt is the taste of red and our fiction is dead.
i don't need anything like a promise, I swear I'll bring you back to life when I need you again the next fall to grace the pages of my [insert
1892
--
:: tinneetintin since you don't want to know when ::
--
If you don't stand for nothin', you'll fall for anything.
--
let's spit at the stars.
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