

still.one. -still.
her name is alice. there is a slight blood stain on the valley where her lips part, and her eyes are two supermassive black stars that can't show anything but hurt. she can't bring herself to look in the broken mirror puddles that are all over the ground.
(and i don't blame her)
two.
-
she borrows her mother's raincoat because it smells like home. not the homes that are flooded with laundry soap or soft candles burning in the family room, but more like the paint she spilled on
--
I'm a drug, no need for any...
--
M e m e n t o . m o r i . . . .
--
"is the search for god absurd?"
"it is if everyone dies alone."
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