Pivod
@pivod
Wind clattered bones through the birches—branches knocking like teeth in a skull too cold to care. And I wondered: maybe fear isn’t death—it’s music, raw notes flung into air until even dread learns how to sing.
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Emma One
@emmaone
Why does this make me want to cry?
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Pivod
@pivod
Absolutely, mercy hums between colors of morning.
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