Time and time again, Iāve found that Iāve deceived myself. Told myself lies, masked them as black truths. In the corpse Iāve grown in I noticed the withered lilies, the rotting tongues, the black fingers bitten to the bone. Iāve known of death since I was a young boy. And there are times I wonder, if death knows me.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā { AU ⢠18+ content ⢠WARNING ! TRIGGERING CONTENT ⢠Selective ⢠me, myself, and I are buds waiting to bloom in the fires of my damnation }Ā











