… The truth that,

my blood is black,

my heart a stone,

my face made of paper-

and you´ve rewritten me,

written all over me.

Your words, your ideas,

your damn will…

Every time you etch my skin

with your dreams…

You´ll find me quietly,

writing insane laughter,

and hot tears, silhouettes –

of rage, passion, and murder.

But, if I´m not killing you…

who did I slay then?

pic: White Mask, ArtofAviya, DeviantArt

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s