Bone Alone And Flame Throned Comments

Taste the dark trapped by your fear. Blisters are hidden but not from your lips. Wounded, suffocating, you are drowning. Torrents of rumours, stirs the currents, the truth is less by more. What did you do, where did you go, you are crowned the queen of snow. Do you smell to see, who your what, turned out for in, to where you actually should be. Your twisted tongue, smell fresh of the dead, that is who you are, and that is what stinks in your bed. My life of thorns bloom on the rose, maroon i bleed inside my cocoon.
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