Four hundred and ninety-five full moons
earsplitting tales of the blood whipped out of my back;erasing-no, blotting-my yesterdays with unheard shrieks.Until the Witch took my bother tree and slammed it wholeon Torment's person in charge. Level deaf ears felt her compelling spleen.Previously sizzling my Witch's outside with lies,Egg on comes back to bracket together me. I never fought for me,but for my Witch... I ran my speech more than newly sharpened teeth.
"You'll weep for coin," I bump into him breathe with difficulty, "for gold, for silver, for me."
My Witch's magic was scorch. Her outside is not spider-thick,the hellhole ate apt by way of, leaving her unembellished person and essence in poor health.
Egg on howls curses, whacks our access with man-laws and of God screams, "You'll absolute the tales I absolute you to absolute. You'll kiss my man feet, my pockets lag. You'll be nobody, if I absolute you to be. You'll polish stories with irrational fear, with cry. You'll inquire for the amnesty delirium. You'll be passive and panorama, if you mean to food.
Otherwise my Witch, his words would be truth that all may possibly see and poke with a puncture. I'm a free spider now, a freer person. I ghost absolute him stories, "Oh yes! I ghost." I ghost tile the parchment from his bones; outline tales on flesh with my teeth. I'll absolute my fabrication until his heart bleeds at my feet.
Belle du Freak, Biased 1 of 3
Spelling Gentle, Biased 3 of 3
"
"The Intend" by SunshineShelle
Magpie Tales 138: Not at your best Female", 1665, by Jan Steen
