when the rush of the blood went from me, into an iv, back into me, into yr mouth, drinking my blood, beautiful beautiful beautiful. there's supposed to be something i've gained back from cutting this out: my life.
where are you?
where did my dreams go?
and my soul & heart too?
i'm afraid i don't have those anymore. yes, i am a kind soul. . . (or perhaps, perceived as one)...i don't have a soul. i don't have a mind. my eyes are rotted apples. sour if you will. will anything ever feel as good again? so sue me, i'm a hedonist.
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