What a pretty color.
Such a rich shade that covers a pale canvas of flesh.
A color so vibrant, so real, it was milked from the wounds from thine own skin.
How does it feel faux lover?
The bane of my existence.

I could count the drops of color if I just took one step closer to this painting.
Are you in agony?
Does your heart clench and twist as mine does?
As I stand in this pool of crimson liquid, I whisper to deaf ears.

I was such a troublesome creature to tame.
Did you think that by luring me with your appeal, that I would eagerly await your ****?
I am not so fickle as to fall for a man as wretched as you were.
Were. were. Were.

How does it feel, my faux lover?
Your empty, soulless eyes reflect in mine own as black as midnight.
Such a gentle ******.

I shake and quake as I reach a stained hand to fall against a cold, pale cheek.
Ahh, lover mine, our shades match.
My eyes close in bliss as the last drop flows from the canvas I have created.
Such a beautiful color.