Thoughts turn into petals , gold spun in the crown of her head. Bled into a gentle stream , with lungs like quivering ghosts in her chest. Bones that grew into roses &. could hold up an empire. ❝ This is the only part of the shrine that is still holy. ❞ Poor , poor Korekiyo , bleeding out on the steps , eyes closed like a siren’s last melody. Pretty things , he learns , never last.
( ❤ / @hearghosts )











