Dying Secrets
She learned to impale her gaping heart with emotions, a secret unkown by the prying eyes of society.
Packing them down tightly, only letting a fraction reach the surface once moonlight filters through the rusted eaves covering her soul,
in privacy.
Inky nights of endless tears, the constant fear of what lies beyond the glowing light of a dying fire. No longer does the kindle she collect fuel the blaze in her eyes. The darkness of the nights begin to blind her, until all she sees is white.
Shards of broken glass plummet down from the ceiling like a hail of shrapnel, gashing her bruised body, numbing her
pain with pain until she is drowning in a thick bath of metallic crimson, immune to any sort of feeling.
Slowly she sinks, down to the depths of her darkest memories, where she finds herself craving the welcoming arms of insanity.
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