A woman is only as good as her curve.. ah, the slice sharp steel could make with a crescent blade.. the cuts a woman can make with the twisted edge of her heightened voice..
Any knife will do, purred Macabre in her ear, her tangled hair soaking up the sweat from her restless nights of shapeless nightmares. Eyes wide open, perhaps a mimicry of innocence crossed her face as she raised a knife above them, her muscles taut and shaking, the knife unfamiliar with this usage.
Kill them, "kill them," she whispered, looking down upon the unsuspecting victims of a Macabre visitation..
"kill them," she spoke, tears flowing down her face as the knife shook free of her grip, falling harmlessly to the ground.
curvaceous, sweet smelling thing of lies and seduction, you lured the serpent, for within him you saw the scapegoat. Heady with the look of your bedroom eyes, Adam lost his thought and betrayed his maker.
"kill them," she pleaded, droplets of water flowing down her face.
Arms hugged her knees, as once again, she found herself alone on her bed, so painfully aware that no one could hold her as she wept.
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