your thoughts are a calamity: ten thousand hymnals on the whispered breeze. there is a fraying hole torn out of the fabric of this plane in the shape of your wretched body, boy; you are expanding beyond your own blood, your own meat. you will become death, destroyer of worlds.

( o child, you've always been this monster. )

http://rotatarot.tumblr.com/post/102448064525/no-more-dreaming-of-the-dead-a-mochizuki-ryoji

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