On Cornix, everything was dark, the sun was shining for a total of three hours per Earth day, and the music was a dim, sinister bass tone, howling through a cold, stormy air like a demon.
Ein sehr metaphorischer Text darüber, wie es ist, Sirenenmenschen zu lieben.
My Darling, you’re not you without your past. I know you’re desperate, I know you’re hurting. You wish you would… Read more Underneath, we’re endless.
Ariel’s light wasn’t in fact light, but more of a dark greyish shade, she was burning, but she wasn’t something you could just spot with your eye. She never had a bitter aftertaste like the other girls, it’s more like the second you left the room you were in with her, she becomes a mystery so fragile you’re uncertain whether it ever really happened. Until you return, and her green eyes let you know that it, in fact, happened. And she, in fact, existed.