“Do you wanna leave?” I shake my head. “I’m content where you are. Location is only semantics.” “What about if I said to the grave?” My darling phantom. How does she not realize yet that I would follow her anywhere? That she will never be alone again. My ghost. All of those grim fairy tales had only prepared her to love me. To accept the love I give her. She is made of nightmares and crimson kisses.
