Precious Blood
Cold and dead: like a patch of frozen ground in the winter which the sun had forgotten to shine on, but no; more like the truth of a frail, lifeless body framing those faint and colorless lips that used to be mine.
Cold and dead: like a patch of frozen ground in the winter which the sun had forgotten to shine on, but no; more like the truth of a frail, lifeless body framing those faint and colorless lips that used to be mine.