blessed mary watches, silent and still her heart is made of cold stone
father has forsaken her while yet another runs from what is rightfully his
"where are you, it is cold, my body is no longer my own?" only the wind echoes here
everything within her turns to nothing, it cannot cry, it stirs madly
he will not hold her hand through the unforgiven solution
.
.
.
she woke up in wonderland, but the cat does not smile
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model: me
manips: photo was originally taken against a white wall, background was digitally added; hair was created using brushes; greyscale conversion and contrast/brightness tweaks.
brushes: randomly found them on deviantart a while ago.
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