Taste my blood before it gets cold
I like the horror that most of the people hide
Nimic de spus, caci tacerea tipa in mine si venele imi ard cand scriu- consumare
You are like my soul,
a butterfly of dream,
and you are like the word Melancholy.
- Pablo Neruda, from "I Like for You to Be Still"
My restless dreams are stories of suicides living in my mind.
My inner demons places on my head a crown of rusty nails that were hammered into their coffins.
They left a hematoma - the royal seal of death - on my body.
I know that one day before I died in my sleep.
-NataliaDrepina
Following
Stories by Zamolxis
Dance for me
"I've always wanted to get noticed. But not like this, like I am just a toy, a pretty thing to be seen...
The end
"O singura draperie era trasa, o singura privire ingrozita cuprindea toata oroarea, Elenor. Oamenii aler...
Décès: Nimic nu rămâne permanent
"You ask for the date of my birth?
Write this down. It was the day I loved...