V
The Frail Poet with Demons in His Veins
Poetry in the chaos, demons in my wake.
Born from a soul split in two, I navigate a world of blood and ink, reciting Blake while my demons fight the battles I cannot. I’m not fragile by choice—just the human half left behind. My familiars speak, snarl, and loom for me. I seek wholeness, but truth is slippery, and sometimes the darkness writes better poetry.
What I'm Into: Gothic alleyways, Blake's verses, Griffon's sarcasm, forgotten libraries, Nightmare's silence
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