This love could kill me, and it's the only thing keeping me alive. The only blood running through my veins, spilling out of my heart and through my mouth. It's poison.
This yearning.
This convulsive yearning.
My hands can't steady, like they're trying to hold something that isn't there.
I never doubted it was there.
This emptiness. It won't stop drowning me out in red. Barely out of reach it sings to me with such an intoxicating melody.
Telling me I could rot here, like sanious rust.
But I'm already rotten. I can see it by the way I bleed. There's nothing left in the end but piles of wet rags soaked with all I am.
This is all of me. What would I be without nothing?
What would I be without a good lie.
Fuck everything