The ink of the beast dissolving into the fabric of molecules
Spoonfuls of the ocean eroding my internal exhaustion
Incisions of affliction inscribing into my flesh
Vile anemic demise filling my lungs  with pebbles
A creek of whiskey snowflakes frosting my distress
Paralyzing my creativity and contemplating my death

The stars in the sky have nothing on the ones in your eyes.
As I watch the crimson flow corrupt the freshly fallen snow,
I feel you against me, as the bitter winds blow us about.
I knew then, that only you could stop me, and help me come alive.