Something new, something distorted.

Will you still hold me when you see what I have done? Will you still kiss me the same, when you taste my victim’s blood? So crimson and red,I feel it flowing from your lips. My heart is dead and so are you.

And it pulses through, the desire to change, to deconstruct.All of my, past failings. But where to begin, because when you live in sin.It’s hard to look at saints,without them reflecting your jet black aura back on you. And all I have is hope.My inner burn’s not fading, I’ll wipe the blood from my cheek and get on with my day.

*something distorted,something new.I’m beginning to see what you mean to me.


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