|Little Stories ||Re-mastered|

We speak in tongues, blacker than the sun; No death can touch, the crooked young.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Yes my little creatures, another poetry series. For you people who followed my last account, you'll obviously know I had one before but discontinued it. This one is different, though. This is matured, it holds slightly more life experience. This my friends is a new chapter of my life and you get a glimpse of what goes on in my brain when I'm alone and genuinely thinking instead of just binge eating or screaming song lyrics, this is Mememotionless. Raw, true, & painful.