Romantic Anarchist
- Reads 10
- Votes 2
- Parts 1
Ongoing5m
Last published Wed, Jul 5, 2023
Now, what am I supposed to do, when witnessing a pool of blood melting the cold snow in my own backyard? Turning into a splashy depiction, like the cup an artist just used to bathe its brush that is coated in the red pigmentation of paint.
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The stinging burn of the water from my fresh cuts. The hot salty liquid streaming down my red hot cheeks. The times I am in so much pain that I can't even cry anymore.
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