It’s that time of the year again, when the blood rises sharp and alive, when the air bites at the edges of my skin and something deeper wakes, raw and electric, burning brighter as the days grow darker.
Why is it always "I love you," and never "I want to sink my teeth into your soul, crawl inside your skin, and bury myself in your dark warmth with insatiable hunger, binding our blood in a rhythm so deep with such ferocity that the earth sighs, and not even the cold grasp of death could pull us apart?"
shisasan reblogged
Seraphine Saintclair, “Elysium’s Rhapsody”