Your skin begins to flake away with only sulfur underneath, and there was a crow in your throat spitting hatred for those who harmed you, urging you closer and closer to the good things, though to do the good things, you knew you had to enter the bad. The crow in your throat didn’t want to be good- xe wanted to be safe.

Author: corvidcraft

What's up! I'm a northern Canadian artist/writer. Poli sci student by education, acrylic painter by passion.

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