

Nothin'Ain't need nothin'. I got you.



I Don't Have A Title For ThisPurple on Pink.
Red on Grey.
The bruises on his skin ran up and down his arms. Purple on Pink.
The blood in his hair trickled slowly down his forehead. Red on Grey.
His eyes once shone bright blue, so full of life, so full of joy.
Now they were dull, full of blood and tears.
His skin was soft and pink, only a freckle here or there.
The bruises hide everything now.
His footsteps increased speed, leaping over logs and dodging branches.
Like how he dodged those fists.
Black hair.
His enemy was the one with black hair.
An evil smile from cheek to cheek,
and big green eyes.
Why did he hit him? The one with the black hair...
Weren't they friends?
What had he done?
Was he not good enough?
He tripped over a rock, but did not stop running. The platinum hair covered his eyes, blinding him like the blood and tears. But he had to run, u


Her Red CoatScent of smoke
clings
On her red
coat.
A size too
small
Hanging in my
wardrobe.
I loved her,
after all.

Dance with Death Wrapped in malevolent shadows, the church would only grant entrance to those with an invitation.
Sitting in the pews, eagerly awaiting his arrival, she began to play with the hem of her black dress. Cold air met the back of her neck and ran down her spine. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her body. She was becoming susceptible to the cold. And that scared her. Only the old or the dying felt frost's embrace, and she refused to be either.
Tashlir would have to arrive, soon. She had stayed in this little village far longer than expected. It was custom for her to bree

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