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Literature Text
Black hair, black dress. Everything, black.
Black eyes, even. Her stare was like the fire of a thousand suns. Two smoldering embers. She was so wonderfully morbid, my darling little sister.
Such an ugly child.
I was surprised that her blood didn't run black along the edge of my knife.
Black eyes, even. Her stare was like the fire of a thousand suns. Two smoldering embers. She was so wonderfully morbid, my darling little sister.
Such an ugly child.
I was surprised that her blood didn't run black along the edge of my knife.
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Beautifully written.
Reminds me of the poem i wrote about a little sister...
Reminds me of the poem i wrote about a little sister...