It bursts out of me
from deep in my core.
Tendrils of smoke and life.
They fill the air with the scent of ash and lavender.

Tears of blood drip off of my face, splashing on the ground,
creating a pool in the room I stand in.

I hold out my hand, thin veins are drawn on my skin by
the energy around me.
A deep red.

My hair dances around me in static,
dead roses litter the floor.
I welcome you into my arms, to welcome the disease into your lungs.
But this one isn't like the others.
This one is different.

A sickness that gives you the strength to stand up,
the ability to be yourself.
I've already let it in, I've already opened myself up.

So I'll ask once more:
Are you infected?