we will paint these screens in the shade of our souls. i want your 2.a.m thoughts inked on my skin paper thin, every inch marked as yours until kingdom come.
sing me to sleep the rhythm of your biggest fears, the darkest of all your secrets. ever so gently my fingertips will strum your beaten heartstrings; we sin in perfect harmony.
this is the art of turning walking pandemoniums into treasure gold.
though your eyes are clouded with wrongs and so are mine, in hell we'll burn brighter than heaven's light.