Black-hearted eternity is kept alive through thorough kisses of dark, dark deeds and the dead things that let them live.
When I was born, infant, new and innocent, I knew this but with time and growth and lost love I couldn't remember. Specifics simply fade, comfortable and enshrined sidelong significance and faith. Not until I died and was born anew, bloody and symbolically baby again did I swallow down the red truth. A deformity of forever, the catch.
Birth in death is a revolution that should not stand up. The potential of the lips is always willing to kill for blood and love. But what did I care?
For in life I was just a girl, just any girl, one of many.
When in death, I was made one and made only.
This Gothic story is cold and loving enough to make you forever fear winter, all while willing to tear from you your living heart.
|File size:||117 KB|
|Age Range:||12 Years|
About the Author
R. Marx is an author that tends to write unconventional works of fiction that aim for challenging those who read them. Though they could use a more-so professional touch to them, her books strive to go beyond the norm of contemporary literature. She's referred to what she writes as avant-garde, or anti-novels. Her prose and plots are experimental, and her heart is red with love for all readers willing to know her stories.