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There are no angels in this world to accompany the dying in their final moments, only pickpockets and carrion birds.
I knew then I would chase your tiny moments of weakness all the way into hell and back. What is more lovely, after all, than a monster undone with wanting?
She returned to us as though she hadn’t been walking the knife’s edge of destruction days ago, smiling that starry smile.
I do not know if I have justified my choice to you, but I think I have justified it to myself, and that has brought me peace enough.
