greeeklover94

The brazen young alchemist tugged at his coat, pulling it closer around his numb body. The weather in December was always terribly bitter, with snow falling inches thick and the smaller offices in Central being pathetically lacking in a heating system were always a death trap. He attempted to warm himself by hugging his body tightly but as the pale flesh of his left arm meet the harshness of his automail he pulled his arms apart suddenly. He sometimes forgot how cold his automail could get. He missed the days when his right arm could feel warmth and return it to his body...but of course that was before his sin. Before he ripped not only himse

My sweet little woodpecker, Beat your wings close to my head. I can hear your whisper. Even if inside you're dead. The red, oh the red, It's running down the wall. Sing softly, my pet, or don't sing at all. Gently now, be careful, If you pull too much it'll tear. If it rips then grounded I'll be, Deep down under there. The spirals are twirling, I can feel it in the air. We'll die like this, you know, Choking on a hair. Living in a Wonderland, Is it any wonder we're dead? The Deadmen sing their happy tunes While painting each other red.