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I'm sitting here, in my house, in my home, staring at the black walls around me in my room, remembering I was the one painting them.
Because black was all that remained from all the colors that once shaped me into who i was back then, and now my veins are paper-thin, like thunder and fire killing me from within

Agonizing devotion, excruciating laceration
Harrowing fervour of entwines our bodies

Oh my enraptured queen of tumefaction
I am salt and water in your wounds

I crave for a reason to become a winner but the blood on my sheets says you're a sinner

I wash my hands in poisoned wine
I touch your face with my new hands
I wash my hands in poisoned wine
I touch your face with my new hands

I hide myself behind these words and hope nobody's smart enough to know the art of reading between the lines because they are the one that define that i'm nowhere near fine but death sounds so pretty in a rhyme

I will put a drop of my sperm in your mouth
As the blood flows in your lips
Taste the tearing bitterness descending in your throat
And dance for me, Almighty One

The glass of wineis glued to my fingertips

We descend in Garmonbozia becoming one
Dance for me for you are dust under my feet
Wasting and decaying your vitality
You will breed omnivorous emptiness
Dance for me for you are dust under my feet

it's past 3 am when a pill slips between my lips and one single thought grips itself around my throat and makes me write a suicide note while i choke on the truth that my youth is nothing but pathetic.

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