October 21, 2008

“Morality plays on stages of sin..”

I’m on the bridge of a meltdown. Something is strongly pressing against my head, making me feel dizzy and weak. It’s insanity, pumping on the sides of my forehead. And an emptiness in my stomach, like a black hole, pulling my insides through me. A bitter taste floods my mouth. Like venom.

It’s funny how some things turn out to be after a while. After all you’ve been trying to do is make something better, you realize that all you’ve done is build yourself a more indulgent Hell. Metaphorically speaking.

Then I felt something warm on my lips, with a different flavour. Blood. I didn’t realize that all along I was biting them-until they broke. I gritted my teeth then pressed my lips hard against them.
“The flesh of fallen angels..”

In the end, it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve been broken, and on what levels. It all turns to ashes, eventually.
Noises crowd my mind, until I feel that all my thoughts are screaming loudly from pits. Mocking at me. Shadows, whispering my name. Like a demonic embrace, calling me from the Underworld.
“It was an easy mistake to make.”


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