I think November is my favorite color November is the touch of an old friend And the whispers that smell of hot cocoa breath in pillow...
I once was stopped, Roaming in the mall An old woman screamed for my golden hair, Craving for it all. I longed to snatch...
The time of ghosts and every monster, The lights are out and they start to wander, All together on the streets, The numbers are rising...
The thirst bled through her system like an ugly snake slithering up her spine and into the roots of her brain. She could just taste it. Taste the blood in her mouth and the craving on her tongue. Tendrils of veins and blood took shape on her neck and face like crawling spider legs.
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