He knitted skies of ink, eyelids growing heavier with each stitch. Sitting in the skies amongst the stars he would work away, resisting the succumbing urge to fall into the few clouds and deep into slumber and dreams of daylight dancing in his subconscious.1008Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxOUsx1YwFz
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Click, clack, the metal needles were smooth against his own rough fingers, as they would bound the strange fabric blanket of black.1008Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWjfeJ15FFQ
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He didn't feel anything, mindlessly working away as if he were just a machine, possibly even in need of oiling. It's gears had a thirst for apperception, not ostracism into the depths of the dark abyss.1008Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOQWkS8SEou
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Cold chills would find their way into his soft black sweater with encrusted with moonstones. It was a gift from the moon itself, and funnily enough, it was his birthstone, and it's precious gems fitted his aesthetic beautifully. But nevertheless, no matter how pretty he looked, he still felt nothing inside of him, like another hollowed tree deep in the forest, withered in solitary.1008Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5MzNFIcFwU
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Watching from afar, he was only a cluster of stars, suspended in the cold, completely bereft of life. 1234 copyright protection1004ＰＥＮＡＮＡbNz7zEIgse 尼

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