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Darkling23:31 Sep 07 2016
Times Read: 176
He calls me his Darkling and I
fall into his arms like a lamb
to the slaughter.
Inside I am dying, a rotten corpse
but he says I am beautiful
and I believe him.
For a little while.
He is the blood coursing through
my veins,
He sculpts me like a piece
of art, chipping all the ugly
rough bits away
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