XXI Ⅰ INFJ Ⅰ ♊

All the broken and shunned creatures.
The children of the night; what music they make.

It's truly a wondrous, fragile thing, when you find
that one person whose devil dances so well with yours.

I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of
sanity is about to slip. Do you feel the hunger? Does it
howl inside? Does it terrify you, or do you feel alive?

The void always rocked you to sleep, and hummed you
monstrous lullabies from the deepest parts of itself.

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