10:09 pm
i am desperately wicked.
the metallic taste of blood lingers longer than it should when i think of all the todays i have coming. the word for that is bloodthirsty. so i paint my lips with what little i have stored away, cracked and caked but red nonetheless.
ichor lines my eyes next. a hint of it bleeds onto my corneas and it burns so much, like the fire that licks at witches like me, but i blink away the tears.
anything to be beautiful.
when the day is said and done i have no need to wash it all off. the next person i kill in my dreams will reapply it for me, and it will be sweet. so sweet. like dewdrops on rose petals. like candy floss under sunshine. like the soul of the girl i was expected to be before i ate her heart and laughed in the blood.
it will be sweet.
