There's a bit of Greek mythology in here, I posted it here before but it
got deleted, please review.
Do you bleed inside?
I know I do.
I keep thinking that I'm on this downward spiral. That I'm just heading downwards, whirling and twirling out of control. I can't stop it. I don't know where this downward spiral is taking me.
Maybe Hell.
That's probably what I deserve after all the things I've done or even just thought about. Can one's thoughts commit a person to Hell?
My thoughts are like a current of blood, sweeping you and me under the undertow.
As we float away, do you like the taste of the blood, flowing into your mouth as you struggle to breathe? Is it sweeter then chocolate?
Will you wish you were someone else? Somewhere else?
But deep down you must know the mind's ponderings will not prevail. That thinking is abysmal, like flailing helplessly in death's grip.
For death is apart of insanity, and insanity has no real thought, only bits and pieces of abuse to be felt. The hard blows will fall across your face, your body, creating beautiful purple and blue flowers that feel pain. Leaving their mark forever upon your flesh.
Will you be to far gone to think about it? Too intoxicated with unfeigned lust for death?
I know I will, because my life will flash before my eyes, and then I won't like what I see. It's disgusting, revolting, to fear your own memories, to think of them as the shit on your shoe.
They're not apart of me. I swear it. I forsake it. I refuse to allow a connection.
But it will be bittersweet, drowning in our sea of blood, (yes that's right, OUR sea of blood, because now you belong there too.) and when it's over, maybe I'll still be in the downward spiral, falling farther to an unknown, arcane destination.
I wonder...
Did Persephone fall in love with Hades?
Will you fall in love with death and come back again and again, dying to experience it again?
Have a pomegranate seed. I promise, it's all yours. Now you can die with me for eternity.
Are you my kindred? Do you fall down your own downward spiral?
Do you wish to have a part in the cycle? Will you help me fall farther?
How long will it be till we see the ground again?
How long to touch the stars in the sky?
How long till I can touch your skin again?
In this blood sea, I reach for you. And our fingertips touch.
Damn the dawn, who paints the morning sky every day with the brightest colors. Never giving me a moment of peace.
And the touch, yes that touch, that sent me reeling, as we fell apart anyways. We are on different currents. Swept apart by madness and insanity as death really can't think; only act on instinct.
And what instinct is it that makes me and you forget how to float down stream?
Our hands helplessly fall apart, not able to intertwine and never able to save the each other.
Oh well. Lost causes.
Now we drown in our blood, (yes, that's OUR blood, because now your bleeding too.)
Is it your eyes that bleed? Have you seen too much of life, or maybe death? Will you look into my memories in despair? Will the tears be bloody? Crusty, dried blood tears, that is sweet to kiss and lick off?
Or is it your heart? That vessel of feeling, that monstrous, decaying vein. I think it is, I feel it bleeding on me. How perfect, that it is I, me who created this hemorrhaging heart attack. How lovely, finally something of my own to cherish.
Now this is the end.
Do not struggle. For what cares death for the weaknesses of mortals?
You know I won't worry, or even care. I think I enjoy being swept under and buried alive too much.
Maybe, one day, after the downward spiral sweeps us back to this moment again and again, you will appreciate it too.
Do you bleed inside?
I know I do.
I keep thinking that I'm on this downward spiral. That I'm just heading downwards, whirling and twirling out of control. I can't stop it. I don't know where this downward spiral is taking me.
Maybe Hell.
That's probably what I deserve after all the things I've done or even just thought about. Can one's thoughts commit a person to Hell?
My thoughts are like a current of blood, sweeping you and me under the undertow.
As we float away, do you like the taste of the blood, flowing into your mouth as you struggle to breathe? Is it sweeter then chocolate?
Will you wish you were someone else? Somewhere else?
But deep down you must know the mind's ponderings will not prevail. That thinking is abysmal, like flailing helplessly in death's grip.
For death is apart of insanity, and insanity has no real thought, only bits and pieces of abuse to be felt. The hard blows will fall across your face, your body, creating beautiful purple and blue flowers that feel pain. Leaving their mark forever upon your flesh.
Will you be to far gone to think about it? Too intoxicated with unfeigned lust for death?
I know I will, because my life will flash before my eyes, and then I won't like what I see. It's disgusting, revolting, to fear your own memories, to think of them as the shit on your shoe.
They're not apart of me. I swear it. I forsake it. I refuse to allow a connection.
But it will be bittersweet, drowning in our sea of blood, (yes that's right, OUR sea of blood, because now you belong there too.) and when it's over, maybe I'll still be in the downward spiral, falling farther to an unknown, arcane destination.
I wonder...
Did Persephone fall in love with Hades?
Will you fall in love with death and come back again and again, dying to experience it again?
Have a pomegranate seed. I promise, it's all yours. Now you can die with me for eternity.
Are you my kindred? Do you fall down your own downward spiral?
Do you wish to have a part in the cycle? Will you help me fall farther?
How long will it be till we see the ground again?
How long to touch the stars in the sky?
How long till I can touch your skin again?
In this blood sea, I reach for you. And our fingertips touch.
Damn the dawn, who paints the morning sky every day with the brightest colors. Never giving me a moment of peace.
And the touch, yes that touch, that sent me reeling, as we fell apart anyways. We are on different currents. Swept apart by madness and insanity as death really can't think; only act on instinct.
And what instinct is it that makes me and you forget how to float down stream?
Our hands helplessly fall apart, not able to intertwine and never able to save the each other.
Oh well. Lost causes.
Now we drown in our blood, (yes, that's OUR blood, because now your bleeding too.)
Is it your eyes that bleed? Have you seen too much of life, or maybe death? Will you look into my memories in despair? Will the tears be bloody? Crusty, dried blood tears, that is sweet to kiss and lick off?
Or is it your heart? That vessel of feeling, that monstrous, decaying vein. I think it is, I feel it bleeding on me. How perfect, that it is I, me who created this hemorrhaging heart attack. How lovely, finally something of my own to cherish.
Now this is the end.
Do not struggle. For what cares death for the weaknesses of mortals?
You know I won't worry, or even care. I think I enjoy being swept under and buried alive too much.
Maybe, one day, after the downward spiral sweeps us back to this moment again and again, you will appreciate it too.