I have a sick obsession with pain. I always try to find different flames to feed my blood to. Bleeding frees me. After so much misery the soul just somehow develops a taste for hurting. The potency of pain flirts so well with the heart when it's despondent. Like a spark of fire in the lonely night. So I go out to the world, searching; for any sublime beauty that's greedy to hurt me. But after all the wounds, deaths and scars, you have always been my favourite to bloodlet to.
Nov 2, 2015
Nov 2, 2015 at 12:03 PM UTC
I have a sick obsession with pain. I always try to find different flames to feed my blood to. Bleeding frees me. After so much misery the soul just somehow develops a taste for hurting. The potency of pain flirts so well with the heart when it's despondent. Like a spark of fire in the lonely night. So I go out to the world, searching; for any sublime beauty that's greedy to hurt me. But after all the wounds, deaths and scars, you have always been my favourite to bloodlet to.
