I'm gonna ask you a favour.
Strangle me, please — so that I can see your true colour.
What do you want? Me, dying? Or just another flavour — throughout your body — pleasure.
Let me gasp for air, and when the muscle twitches, contracts,
I wonder, will you let me go?
Or will you leave me to suffer?
I don't mind gasping for air.
I don't mind inheriting my name on a stone,
or the heir you atone for.
When you're inside me, whatever the motive,
the present, I will notice.
Will you break my neck,
just like the promise you can't front?
The gifts of love
are really just guessing the outcomes.
We love the one we hate the most,
and I'm your number one fan.
Oct 18, 2025
Oct 18, 2025 at 10:57 AM UTC
I'm gonna ask you a favour.
Strangle me, please — so that I can see your true colour.
What do you want? Me, dying? Or just another flavour — throughout your body — pleasure.
Let me gasp for air, and when the muscle twitches, contracts,
I wonder, will you let me go?
Or will you leave me to suffer?
I don't mind gasping for air.
I don't mind inheriting my name on a stone,
or the heir you atone for.
When you're inside me, whatever the motive,
the present, I will notice.
Will you break my neck,
just like the promise you can't front?
The gifts of love
are really just guessing the outcomes.
We love the one we hate the most,
and I'm your number one fan.