72 words

Through that crack in the mirror I can see something coming out, while something else is going in. Part of my sanity, part of my soul, part of my dreamlike mind.

What unearthly creature have I unleashed? Who have I awoken from its slumber? 

I feel how it drains me, how it pours liquified darkness into my skull, how it feeds my brain with images of death and decay.

December is overrated.

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