the phoniest of flattery the most lascivious of lies the cacophony of coquettish ramblings: all are the plights of an unreciprocated obsession, not born out of love, but of rabidly ill intent. ~ Sammicakes
slip into consciousness at the touch of cotton soft skin and contrasting fingertips. eye the waving sultry curls of blond against brown locks, after closing the satin blinds, drawing in closer the four walls, existence beyond glistening and diminishing into small nothingness. the nothingness slips away, slips away, slips away… understand the importance of this…
always present, but presently fading
language of love // language of lies
Squirming worms of dread,
on the walls and in my head.