03-03-2018, 08:47 AM
･ﾟ✧ her temple was built from bottles, ornate bricks of whiskey and rum. on the altar were broken glasses, and a bible of warning labels. the prayers she said each night were dark, and bitter, like cigarette smoke. she was the best worshipper, of the worse faith.
･ﾟ✧ she tied her knuckles, put on her war paint and stepped out the door. any other time she would have noticed the cold wind of the night but tonight there was fire in her bones and nothing, nothing was keeping her at bay less.
･ﾟ✧ she carved a danse macabre into the soles of her shoes, and wherever she walked prancing corpses followed.
･ﾟ✧ i will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible and when i leave, you will finally understand, why storms are named after people.
･ﾟ✧ you're beautiful, but so are forest fires. we all struggle to look away from natural disasters. i think you're breathtaking enough, but sooner or later you're bound to erupt.
･ﾟ✧ so plant your own garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
･ﾟ✧ brave girl, you were made for more. chaos is only understood when it is loved by the wild, not the weak.