A woman, who’s a free spirit that can’t pass on, from her deathly sin she floats in the air cold and aimlessly. roaming the earth til she can find herself gathering up all of belongings, memories, family members, and children. Anything that’s connected to her, and hers. She’s a split personality of Mother Teresa, and a niece to
Athena. A
beautiful dead woman with intuition, premonition, prophecies, stories to tell, people to warn, more things to give than the giver, but always running “suicide runs” that never end. She’s the
beautiful dead woman, who’s still dead at the end of the day still losing her mind.
My atroppa bella
dona doesn’t feel good, she’s overwhelmed with
anxiety grimaced from the thought of where her
iPhone is because she forgot how to forget and she has a screenshot on her phone.