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¢rónι¢αѕ ∂є ∂íαѕ ℓℓυνισѕσѕ
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¢rónι¢αѕ ∂є ∂íαѕ ℓℓυνισѕσѕ
¢rónι¢αѕ ∂є ∂íαѕ ℓℓυνισѕσѕ

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¢rónι¢αѕ ∂є ∂íαѕ ℓℓυνισѕσѕ's posts

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M u d

She scratches, with nervous hands and the rain streaming down her back, down her eyelids, down her chin, down the inverted peaks of her hair (open and frayed), down the stones that surround her. Her knees will still resist a little bit more on that floor full of sharp rocks; they will still endure before the pain becomes insufferable.
 She, blind in front of the thick mud where she is sinking her hands, isn’t conscious of what is staining her immaculate white nightgown.
 “Faster, faster, faster” she gibbers, nervous, repeating that last word over and over, while her clumsy and delicate hands scratch, faster and clumsier.

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Peter Pan's Death - 1. Tinker Bell

It rains, it rains on Neverland. Every drop tells a story that won't ever happen now; every sound a scream that no human could be capable of listening. From the drops' smell confusing memories flowed and, just when they precipitated towards the ground, they exploded with small but effective whispers. Each molecule of water yelled when born: "Peter Pan won't come back".................................. CLIK.... FULL STORY

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Rape my entrails, shake me, penetrate me, break through it. There, that's to the bottom. Destroy everything, until nothing remains. With passion, fervently with the whole body. Go with your tongue, fuss over me with your arms, grope me with the palms of your hands, touch...

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