I must confess.
The sour smell of your lies is intriguing.
Tell me you’ll never let me go, and I’ll tell you stories of hopes and dreams that wrinkle towards the end.
Include me in your starlight memories and I’ll come drenched in kerosene, glistening in the autumnal fire.
With every word I fall deeper into your gaze.
Sorcery such as this, inane but final.
Final as the truth emblazoned amongst the pale light of the pyre in your irises.
But I will not go alone.
One embrace from me and together the lines are blurred.
Is this a daunting reality?
Or the succumbing of our essence being swallowed into the mouth of Euronymous?
Together we’ll bleed.
And the best part…
I can still taste you on my tongue.