You are a feast, a feast for humans, for crows, for worms and maggots and flees and everything poisonous. Everything dark. Maybe once you could have been special, but not now. You’re ruined; most things are, but especially you. You are a feast for poison, but you feast on the innocent, the loving, the one’s that could save us all. You are destruction, the worst kind. You are blacker than black, the blood that runs through your vein’s is cruel and unmerciful. You will be the cause of Earth’s fall and Hell’s rise.
You are death itself.
And you don’t even know it.
You are Lucy.
Thanks for reading, this is a very small snipet of something I’m writing, maybe a novel:)