CW: death
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It buzzes under your skin, an insistent prod at your guts; all twisting and snakelike in the way it coils along your lungs.310Please respect copyright.PENANAz6FtEouyDS
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All you smell is sickly sweet dandelions as you’re showered in the yellow flowers— weeds.310Please respect copyright.PENANA16QfHb1ww8
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It clings to your skin with vengeance, the reek of decaying plants scraping spidery fingers along the grooves and notches in your skull.310Please respect copyright.PENANAhGYr8Zstg3
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Dead and forgotten wishes sink into your bones, collecting in every crevice and crack of your armor less body. Clothes gone too, if the wind stubbornly brushing the flowers— weeds— away futilely is anything to go by.310Please respect copyright.PENANAwMd7LwJ1ND
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Like these flowers, and the wishes they hold tied up in their color— bright yellow, the color of traitors, and soft white, like a morning cloud before rainfall— you too would be forgotten, left to decay in fields of dandelions, preserved by the immortality you did not wish for.310Please respect copyright.PENANA2fNvYNZli6