Pepper Winters

I want blood. I want corpses. I want

to dance on unmarked graves for this.

I always believed life would grant rewards to those most worthy. I was fucking naïve. Life doesn’t reward—it ruins. It ruins those most deserving and takes everything. It takes everything all while watching any remaining goodness rot to hate.

It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self.

It wasn’t the terror of the unknown future that stole my false calmness. It was the fear of losing my very self.

If life was a tapestry, already threaded and steadfast, then he was the scissors that cut me free. He tore me out, stole me away, changed the whole prophecy of who I was meant to be.

I couldn’t focus on what I was giving up, only on what I hoped to gain.

The flames of beasts came out to feast. No priest can save the singed deceased

We met in a nightmare, loved in a prayer. We gave everything until both were laid bare.”

I loved someone who wasn’t real. I’d given my heart to the boy in my dreams.

He was just so used to being hurt, so used to nursing his grief and living with a broken heart. He hated me because I represented hope.