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The dark sky always calls to the memories if I allow it.
quaking in fear now that he knows I’m a fucking crazy bitch with a knife.
The wicked can fake nobility, just as the damned can fake innocence. But only the truth will rise from the ashes when we all start to burn.
More panic. More fleeing.
Never mock or harm the passionate, for they are the fiercest with their wrath.
More screams. They sound so pretty.
