and i'm waiting for the day
that your kisses will feel like cold steel on my throat,
and your tongue will be tasting the ashes in my mouth,
and your fingers will burn bulletholes in my skin,
and your eyes will hold nothing but despair and apathy for me.
the freckles on my cheeks will lose their charm,
and you will grow weary of my laughter and my arm around you.

because you and i both know, lover, that this will implode
and it will be so terrifying beautiful when it does
(just like how we've always been, dancing with the edge of fate).