Wake up.
That happy place in middle of a dream, letting myself be carried by horrible words, everything looked ideal. I just want that and then I die.
I feel a squeeze in my hand.
I try to raise my hand. Its heavy
I am who is grabbing her hand, and she don't do nothing to avoid it. Is just her dead weigth against me.
Her dead eyes are still open and her curly hair of angel doesn't shine.
She knows that she belongs to other and she could't never be with him. also the fear and the reason always appears when she can scape.
REF: https://www.voanoticias.com/a/detroit-escultura-de-satan/2861258.html
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