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My nights were filled with haunting music, spun from a tongue I’d once known to whisper jokes and pass gossip from ear to ear. The words struck chords in my heart which stung when I woke and ached throughout the days until finally I succumbed to slumber and her songs found me again.
🥀
Blood stained the trees, limbs torn from corpses which were hung like twisted decorations from bough to branch.
This is wiiiiiildd
“That doesn’t mean I didn’t wish for one.”
sigh
Death was inevitable, so she was good company to keep.
The pages were dog-eared and grey from the amount of times I’d fallen asleep reading over her words, pretending I could hear her voice between the letters, imagining she was a little closer when I consumed them. They contained nothing of real value to anyone else, but to me, they were the most precious thing in all the world.
My grief is going to catch up with me while reading this one
“I would say I’m impressed but you were painfully slow in that descent and almost lost your life to a thornbush,”
Noooooo lmao
