her face...a haunted house
in the far distance, I see the glow of broken glass, that of a window long since forgotten.. blood trickle can be heard from afar while perfectly crafted doors stand slightly ajar...the walls a pale white...the roof a painful black...then... the doors creak a question, the window shutters close, and she becomes perfectly still...the haunted girl in the corner of my eye.
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Emo
we are all God's children in The dark. I believe if you want to know me, read my poetry.
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