ph by dev
i don't want to know the reason why love keeps. he wrote me a poem, putting scars in the heart of the girl that loved him so much. he said that we should be together, because we belong together. i told him that he was such an angel, but although i wanted him so much i could shot myself and trade my thirst for blood, i resembled more of a messed-up novel than the bittersweet, romantic realities about me he'd always dreamed of. he said no no no, and i told him that he'd be surprised once he'd seen thousands of irreparable rotten wounds beneath the seemingly perfect second-skin that had transformed me into a real-life, moving version of the picture of Dorian Gray, only with real blood gushing in my veins.
"i will treat injustice as honor and travel seven skies just to make you mine."
