your naked wings and my bare truth: "𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
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‘oh, the skies, tumbling from your eyes; so sublime, a chase to end of time.’
i wondered how my nails would seem, buried deep inside your flesh/ will you feel the life leave your body or will your heart thrash restlessly against my wrist?/ your blood tickling down my arm and your hold loosening its menace/ would you whimper as he did in mizumono—if i were to knife your guts as per the script?
it's a beautiful day to kiss death anyway.
your burning skin that would seep under my hands/ the rushing warmth of your blood that would act as a furnace/ your organs rolling under my touch/ and how beautifully you'd choke while trying to live your last moments/ i wondered where i would bury my wonder if i had gotten a chance.
i send these words of love with sincerity. i could flower their organs to court you, but unfortunately, i have to be discreet.
i mourned my hunger for i could no longer appreciate your existence/ if i were to hang a skinned mortal in a church to reminisce of your brilliance – i would've done so without hesitating/ a million twinkling struggles that would simply die under my fingertips/ and for the last time your salty eyes would melt themselves on my tongue in grief/ if you die in my arms, at least i would know how the life leaves one's lips.
i wondered if i would let you sin or allow your wrath to take over. we could abandon mortality, you could be the lamb and i, the devil.
your kerosene bones from when i would strip the skin of what you once were/ playing pretence to defend yourself and sharing a bed with skeletons/ the embers of smothering home you survived/ all the gashes of betrayal you endured/ by holding the smoke in your chest, the arsenal fire warmed your blood/ all those tragic nights and all the unfortunate incidents/ i could immortalize your jailbreak and carve tales of your freedom.
“i understand that blood and breath, are the only elements undergoing change to fuel your Radiance.” He repeated.
the skin would fall apart/ your wounds would bloom under the moonlit skies/ no inhibitions of mortal bonds/ and nobody to hold your insides/ mythical creatures tailing around your heart/ blowing fire, incarnadine/ obsidian sequins running down your scars/ for blood really does look black in the moonlight.
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‘oh, the dye is cast inside my mind, oh, the dye; a blood red setting sun.’
OUTRO:
it's a shame i can't eat the rude but perhaps i can play the role just to offend him. so he could drug me out and make me feed my face to his husband's dogs with my skinless teeth bleeding on their living room seat-- and when i get hungry, he would order me, ‘eat your nose, then.’ as i would slice it right off with my father's stupid knife and chew it down like his obedient puppet while they watch me giggling pathetically at their mercy.
