PRIMA.
FUCK ME UNTIL MY HEART STOPS, DAUGHTER OF THE DAMNED!
Trace a map of wet kisses through the edges of my hips; I've heard that you can turn Gods into humans and I'm craving a little bit of mortality tonight.
Why don't you cry your sadness away in my chest, sweet girl? Pierce right through me with your icy tears, stab the addiction out of me. Let me crave something other than your mouth.
SECONDO.
WHY DON'T YOU TELL THE WORLD ABOUT YOUR FEAR OF IDENTITY AND HOW YOU ARE A BLUR OF FADED MEMORIES AND TALES?
Everyone believes you when you tell them that you can be worshiped, for everyone believes in you; you're the scariest of legends, told every wintery afternoon.
You make monsters out of men, corpses out of boys; they chant to you in victory sonnets but you only like it when they bleed themselves out for you through lyrical screams of solitude and damnation.
TERZO.
HA! LITTLE GIRL HAS RAN OUT OF SOULS TO STEAL? NOW YOU PRAY ON YOUR KNEES FOR A FEW NEW LOVERS TO SELL, BUT THE DEVIL SCREAMS TO YOU:
"HELL IS FOR THE SOULLESS, LONELY GIRL. NO ONE LOVES A WIFE OF THE SUN, A MISTRESS OF THE MOON. NO ONE LOVES YOU."
YOU CRY LAGOONS AS YOU CALL OUT MY NAME, CLAIMING IF YOU DROWN DEEP ENOUGH, I'LL RESCUE YOU FROM THE PAIN.
BUT PAIN ISN'T SOMETHING YOU WANT TO BE RESCUED FROM, SO I LET YOU BREATHE UNDERWATER AND SWIM AWAY.
