All the little birdies in the tree. All the little birdies stare at me. All the little birdies bleeding from their eyes. All the little birdies dropping like flies. All the little birdies piercing screams. Shattering their teeth, tearing their seams. Ha ha ha hah hah hah.
YOU ARE READING
A journal of the criminally insane.
HorrorYou know, I can still hear her voice sometimes, or her last breath. I wanted to catch it in a jar so she would never stop breathing. So that she would not be lost. But that wouldn’t have saved her. Nothing could. She’s gone. And she’s never coming...
