there is nothing here except my lifeless shell of a body, slowly rotting away in the sweet grass of nevermore, rust coated ribs and fractured heartstrings melting into the ground, ambrosia.
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my existence is made of dying stars, and my silhouette sheens with their godly embers. tell me, if i am not a girl from an abysmal creation then what am i? in delicious destruction, i truly thrive, for i shine with the most cosmic divinity in deaths sparks.
