Even when the clock strikes two in the morning, the room is pitch-black, and the whole world is asleep, I still somehow cannot muster any fear. Outside, the world is eerily silent. The streets are empty, leafless tree branches stretch out in front of the silver moon like streaks of ink, and the wind outside…
Ghosts Don’t Scare Me When I Cry
Even when the clock strikes two in the morning, the room is pitch-black, and the whole world is asleep, I still somehow cannot muster any fear. Outside, the world is eerily silent. The streets are empty, leafless tree branches stretch out in front of the silver moon like streaks of ink, and the wind outside…