✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
every corner of this alley is infected. this wretched disease spreads its spores through every inch of her mind. no matter what corner she turns, stairway she descends, or passage she sneaks through, she always ends up back here. weeks pass before the embrace of a decrepit chain-link fence welcomes her as she finally collapses. equally comforting and perturbing is the stench of rusty metal and fresh spray-paint that fills the air. all feels lost, but as long as the Moon hangs around her neck, her legs will uncross and her foot will unshackle.