There are people who mean the world to you and tell you they care about you.
That they are there for you.
And you will watch as one by one, they show their true nature.
And the only thing left that cares is a sharp piece of metal.
And little lines seem to appear almost endlessly.
Little rivers of crimson flow perpetually.
Until the only thing that does end.
Is your life.
YOU ARE READING
My Demons
AcakA set of little, dark stories describing how I feel or what I am thinking. Some are really short. Trigger Warning.
