Your screams are cacophonies of clashing symbols, serpents slithering out of the den of your soft lips,
The echo of your words will lie with me, and bathe with my corpse in the ashen, tainted earth
My eyes will never return,
I will draw closer and closer to the edge of innocence
until my body of helpless bones will jump off of that cliff, tired and completely lucid,
I'll spiral backwards and morph into butterflies that feed off of flesh
And while I fall, I will wonder,
Was becoming what I became forgivable if all I became was you in another form?
Sincerely, THE AUTHOR
