there are only two people in this house, and neither of them particularly
human.
you're a fiend.
you slither into the hearts of people, make them like you, and then you grow dark
and then you grow cold
and then you choke them in all the worst ways.

and the best part is, you insist you aren't doing it.

it's cute to watch you try to be something
try to be worth anything
try to be something light when you were only ever the heavy blackness.

you should take comfort in the fact that you have the one talent, at least; ******* things up so perfectly.

why don't you just do us all a favor and die?