

Touch Me and You Die -OriginalOn the damp, cold ground lay a mutilated corpse, literally torn limb from limb in a pool of thick blood. Crawling with an unusually large number of vermin, the flies and maggots devoured their feast of rotting flesh, emitting a sweet, decaying scent. The face of the motionless torso was undoubtedly beautiful, had it not been streaked with tearstains and smudged with dried blood. Her open eyes were a deep, clear blue and remained emotionless in their sockets given her state. Her thin, once-pink lips were slightly apart, and her face displayed mild shock and fear. Her cheeks, devoid of its formerly healthy glow rested upon her sullied face likeTouch Me and You Die -Original


Bleeding with ThoughtsThe constant tapping of blood against blood rang through the tranquility of my room. I stared ahead: at the dark ceiling. I could hardly make out its shape, could hardly locate its four corners, I thought with numb panic.Bleeding with Thoughts
Perhaps the light would help, but doing this insulted my want for untroubled solidarity – just for a while… for as long as I could – to think things through.
With every new inch the scarlet of my life licked, it seemed as though the self-inflicted cut was extending further.
It felt extremely pleasing, but faintly so. It felt ethereal, and unreal… It cleared my mind of


Regrets for her.I could tell that most of us considered laughing when we heard that she tripped and fell. That was before we knew the whole story,Regrets for her.
Stunned was the only word to describe our emotions at the table upon receiving intelligence that Amy died after lying down due to an unfortunate trip over a deliberately stuck out leg.
It was difficult to believe, almost impossible. My heart leapt for a moment at the new before sinking back into the dreary depths of my soul. Amy was a nasty girl, that for one was a fact, but she did not deserve such a fate.
I then started to remember the times we shared. She


At Thine HandsHer face, so flawless in appearance, may deceive all, but I knew what lay beneath that picturesque frame.At Thine Hands
“En garde!” A salute from both parties, our voices echoing around us in the room. I glanced briefly at the sparkling, polished marble floor, the walls, which were touched with roughly smooth, intricately decorated wallpaper, the closed oaken door, and her: before I place a foot behind.
She advanced with lightning-quick agility, nearing that of mine.
My suit was protecting me far less than before, I needlessly informed myself, and I smiled inwardly at that and at my suddenly improved
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Hard as lightning, soft as candlelight.
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I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words
-Feste/Twelfth Night - William Shakespeare
Merry Christmas..see you in school!
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I am indeed not her fool, but her corrupter of words
-Feste/Twelfth Night - William Shakespeare
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See my main account *kipinae for my photography, drawings and paintings.
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One piece of his heart for every tear she granted..
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