dear horcrux experiment number 4,
dear. a strange word holding as much meaning as dead. dear, dead, and docile in your forever. drowned, debunked, and dirty.
dear, dear, dear.
the lifestyle that's possessed me in a form of karma for you, is simply exhausting. you possess me in the rare times i sleep, haunting my dreams and my life as you float in between.
every time i write to u a little piece of me withers up and dies (just like you did ). it's inconvenient, if anything, there's so many pieces of me to give, but not once have i been described as giving. my souls are mine and mine only— an eternal in which i rise above them all, almost touching the heavens in which i imagine you reside. or finally putting some distance from you. letting you rot in your grave as i look down upon you, like it was meant to be.
i find comfort in my eternal life in the same way you found comfort in me. what a shame one of those isn't true.
dear, my means to eternal.
it doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?
your dearest eternal,
tom riddle
YOU ARE READING
letters to a dead girl
Fanfictioni'm not expecting a reply, but at least the acknowledgment my letters are reaching your grave would be kind. or just watch me spiral with a smile. tom riddle 2021