(little drops of aphrodisiac on your pale quivering neck)

(things that might have happened, and things that might exist, but we're really not that sure)

(and i'm beginning to think that this might actually mean something, if anything, if i can even understand)

(you're slipping away from me, but i think you look more beautiful covered in ashes)

(fuck perfection, it's starting to get on my nerves)

(little shards of myself, digging into your skin. my brokeness is making you bleed)

(stop crying; you didn't do anything wrong. i'm the fuck-up)

(stop crying; i don't like this filthy concience of guilt that's grown too fond of raping me)

(and life likes to play with you when it gets bored of massacre, but it's far too big for us to even try to get mad at)

(would you let me fall into you and let me stay until morning stops coming?)

(because i'm beginning to wish for things that don't quite exist, and it's hurting both of us)

(and no matter how many times i try, the stars won't stop glaring)

(so i'm sorry for all i've done to you…)

(i'll just go, i'll…)

(i'll make it all better for you now)

(sleep now. let it overtake you, slipping through all the little cracks in your malted porcelain skin)

(don't look at my any longer; there are stains in your eyes blossoming)

(i'm sorry for all i've done to you)

(look at the sky and think of those days we fell into the wind)

(i'll kiss you goodnight with sheer lips that ache to bruise and poison you; to whisper and gnaw at your skin until you match my hands; screw you until your pretty throat collapses inwards on your screams and convulsions of vomiting)

(i'll shut the door quietly behind me and bury the key in the garden beneath the roses you forgot to water for all of July)

(and i'll be long gone by morning)

(don't you dare wave good-bye)