through feathered pens inked with blood and a scarred soul of overflowing abysmal ideologies; there sits an obscured entity, scribbling metaphors and ironies in a crumpled paper of her chaos, seeking for something out of all nothings.
and here she u...
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for the little soul whoʼs in need of my chaos.
for you.
let me have the gratification of whispering my written silence.
