Yakabatanidzwa ruzha

The lanky fingers of this demonic teen succubus twiddling around in my open skull felt sickening but also like a long-held tension relived between the fake morals I've been forced to maintain and what beings me the greatest joy, a dive into the new murky black substrate of sin I would be obliged to breathe henceforth. A literal smile no longer forced on every metaphorical slash that was cutting away at my fragile mortal body. Grimaces fading into a constant maniacal grin on every beat of the met