biscuit basket.

𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗲

i used to soar up high in the
bloody, red skies of passion. slept in bulbous clouds of ecstasy,
drank from the sweet waters of tender love, i dreamt in only peace. yet i craved for something more. so, i ventured out in the forbidden winds, that upheld a gazing terror i knew not of. something that would have become me a constant pain of regrets. i knew not, i was being watched upon, by eyes in the darkness. oh, why did i not hear the pleads of help?

ah, how could i?

for i was deafened by their lies and illusions.