Nothing appears more beautiful than the brilliant red of your bastardly essence running down my fingers.
The inside of my fingernails soaked in screams, in the dark shades of betrayal.

You were too complacent.

Forget about trust;
you never bothered to believe I could ever be capable of anything more than

silent stares.

Anger bubbled on for too long it turned into acid,
and your skin was just the perfect canvas.

Yet, ironic it may seem,
I’ll have you know–

I was never one to kill.
But you led me to believe it couldn’t be helped.

–Β “Bastardly Essence”

LL.

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