“By the time life stood out and gave me a penny instead of a knife, I grabbed a pen and scribbled ink on my bare skin. It was a grotesque image haunting my naked eyes and itching on every layer of my epidermis. When I decided to follow the ink flowing now through my veins, my mouth thirsted for an extension of my soul. What are the chances that soon, you’ll call my name? I can only question how nothing makes sense. “

Love, B.

Originally posted on tumblr: http://theornithophobic.tumblr.com/

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