i was plucked, withered, and growing all over again.

her heart was just like a bottle, she said. now that the bottle is abidingly ruptured, her reflection is buried in those pieces, luminatining under the moonroof. her dread was stapled, the bones in her were now withered. the soul that her eyes carried, now carried those tears. those tears pushed by her, far long, and her soul began to drown. alive but lifeless, she smoked her chance, alive but lifeless, she was a blooming life once. under the lune she mourned now, suffocating herself was her lethal flaw. the moonlight pierced within her death eyes, lifting her crushed soul, engulfing her cries. - luce. ↳ book two of her series. ‧₊ ❪ a collection of random thoughts, some messages, and poems by yours truly. ❫ all rights reserved. lowercase intended. do not copy or repost.