Death becomes her,she who bleduntil her skin grew paleand the floor turned redSee, she so loved a manthat she sliced her chestto give him what restedbeneath her left breast A trembling fingerdipped in crimson inkwrote three lonely wordsin the kitchen... Continue reading →

28 days in this miserable monthnamed February.(curses to her very existence)and this year,it isn’t Friday the 13ththat I fear; it’s the day after:Saturday, the 14th.a day that reminds me of my solitudein the middle of millions celebratingthe disgusting characteristicsof love.... Continue reading →