"Of course you do."
"The clock looked down upon her, and watched as her skin was pierced by needle and sowed with thread, eyes glowering and mouth watering."
"Then she cried, right?" You say eagerly, eyes still shut.
"Indeed she did. A fool she was, rubbing at the sore flesh as soon as it was over... Not a clever girl like you, that's for sure." Another drink. Her hand trails, rubbing roughly at your bare skin, making the color red and blistered, before she digs plastic nails into the forming bruises. You make a soft crying noise, but she hushes you and begins to run her hands through your hair again.
"And then what?" You whisper.
"She was given time, of course. But it was never enough. For time was truly the enemy, because all it left her to do was look at filled graves of people she used to see above the ground. Ha, made the poor girl cry until her eyes hurt."
You laugh with her.
"And then-"
You cut her off. "And then she took the needles that pierced her and plucked out the numbers they stitched in, and soon fell to the tick of the clock." You giggle.
"Ah, indeed she did."
"I love you, mommy." She cuts you with a chip of her nail.
The cut bleeds in a single, lonesome stream.
"And mommy loves you." She spills a burning drop onto the wound and shuts the door quietly.
You fall asleep to the sound of a ticking clock.
THE MOM WAS THE GIRL. KILLED THE DAD AND LOTS OF HER LOVERS.
the MORE TIME YOU GET, THE LESS TIME YOU WILL HAVE WHEN IT FADES AWAY
KIND OF LIKE AN ADDICTION
DONT GET IT
DIE FAST
THE MORE LIFE IT TAKES TO GET MROE TIME
IT LOSES VALUE
"The clock looked down upon her, and watched as her skin was pierced by needle and sowed with thread, eyes glowering and mouth watering."
"Then she cried, right?" You say eagerly, eyes still shut.
"Indeed she did. A fool she was, rubbing at the sore flesh as soon as it was over... Not a clever girl like you, that's for sure." Another drink. Her hand trails, rubbing roughly at your bare skin, making the color red and blistered, before she digs plastic nails into the forming bruises. You make a soft crying noise, but she hushes you and begins to run her hands through your hair again.
"And then what?" You whisper.
"She was given time, of course. But it was never enough. For time was truly the enemy, because all it left her to do was look at filled graves of people she used to see above the ground. Ha, made the poor girl cry until her eyes hurt."
You laugh with her.
"And then-"
You cut her off. "And then she took the needles that pierced her and plucked out the numbers they stitched in, and soon fell to the tick of the clock." You giggle.
"Ah, indeed she did."
"I love you, mommy." She cuts you with a chip of her nail.
The cut bleeds in a single, lonesome stream.
"And mommy loves you." She spills a burning drop onto the wound and shuts the door quietly.
You fall asleep to the sound of a ticking clock.
THE MOM WAS THE GIRL. KILLED THE DAD AND LOTS OF HER LOVERS.
the MORE TIME YOU GET, THE LESS TIME YOU WILL HAVE WHEN IT FADES AWAY
KIND OF LIKE AN ADDICTION
DONT GET IT
DIE FAST
THE MORE LIFE IT TAKES TO GET MROE TIME
IT LOSES VALUE
