These ****** intentions
seem to **** more than those so-called "reported" serial *******.

To say,
      -off the record-
that you give me both...
feels very disturbingly corrupt

yet thats not why you see me blushing.


can this burning betrayal flesh be helped or better prevented? probably not

my fight or flight instinct is to be the only suicidal bunny wet with desire, pressed up against the starving fox
wanting you to give me it all.

this is to be the root of my eternal damnation.

have all these urges
      -that even you have yourself-
really be tainting the fragile lining of my soul using only my sinful secrets like a parasite?

or is the questioning of my own morality while you **** me religiously the real sin?

How dare my mind even wonder while you posses me from the inside.

if i am to be ****** for finding what you only long for then so be it,
mark me ****** and chisel me into the future's mythology.

and on that day,
the divine powers from above decide to strike me down,
        when they smight me,

plaguing me with some eternal curse
I will welcome all fates with a smile.

I found a love so powerful it made destiny insecure

resulting as my name serving as some cautionary tail of knowing ones place
forever blazing in the stories with danger and warning.

but even if the sight of me were to turn you to stone, making me your demise,

i will deliver your marble tomb each and every time.

I will always choose to make you hard-always.

Waned and weary with only toil and trouble
my limbs could only travel this journey tired. .

In my head to in my mind
-which coincidentally were not the same thing-
thoughts seemed to expire from the zealous fear found in your gaping wide darkness of speech.

My serenely spiritual soul's mythical secret shadow sparkled as a jewel:

Boundlessly black but brazenly beauteous by day, but by night,

my mind mentioned masses of decoratively hung ghastly gossip,
secretively shushed into silence
                   never
     ever
                                  to be a quick quiet find for any of us.

He halted..

Snuffing the air, he turned tail and galloped off.

Still,
Without much delay,
We gallantly dragged our efforts; shooting at the poor beast in hot pursuit

I was unwilling in this sport.

In my heart of hearts I hoped instead we might manage to tame him.
This Mighty Majestic Beast of Burden was too rare to see Death.

But once our chase had been executed the  noose in our hands drew tight,
Ensnaring the monster in our trap as we had him.

We had him cornered.
The Beast was upon the ground-doomed.
The animal was at all our mercy.

I felt some repugnance at paining the animal-but those were the orders.
This was a case of necessity-this was **** or be killed.

Half my time is spent bruising my own ego,
as I literally try to command every cell in my body to forget you entirely.

Forget your stupid face, your name, and all the things I can't stand about you.
Or worse.. all those things I'm ashamed to admit I love about you.

In the end, pretending your nonexistence only antagonizes me more.
The absence of you is louder than the endless supply of smart *** remarks you never seem to run out of.

You take the joy out of every day, you rob me of the fun in getting high,
You steal the very colour from my sight!
Forcing me to star in this silent black and white film with horrible lighting.

The other half of my time consumes all the rest of my energy.
As I will the fibers of the Universe into energy that does my simple bidding-
Overdosing your every single thought or impulse with only one yearning desire:
Visions of me, covered in only green lace and liquid codeine.

Oh the things I would do to you!
I would go to such lengths to pretend to please you..

I want to give you the world just so I can take it from you later.
And because you are the fire of my soul, my one and only..
I promise you I will.

Blazing eyes hot with slow fearful contrast fired together, coloring a vivid sonic boom.
Blinding all with fired pistols quivering through many of the mighty dead.

The light in my eyes was the only movement that could be seen.

While a lone bro cry of "HAZAH!" was desirously pining over a share of the glory in this galvanic conquest.

That was the signal-NOW WAS THE TIME!
Victory was in sight drawing near and aggressively holding on tight.

I assure you of this, we really are the prey,
playing this cat and mouse game we were never supposed to win.
This evil creature of trickery let us destroy him-so who is the real hero?

unless air is fatal to those who breathe, you should have nothing to fear.
The safest way of surviving Fatal Air is to steal a few handfuls of blazing air.
Granting you access to:
“Enter without Danger.”

Physical contact sparked flames instantly.
Heating up more than the temperature, while bundles of blazing grass were thrown in for a real heat wave. preparing the flame chest filled with signal rockets that we brought from the wreck blasted flying fiery serpents shots; gliding across the sky and shortly disappearing at a vast distance.
Radiant meteors on a cloud of thunder lightened up by local magicians sparked and smoked like fire-breathing dragons.

These experiments lighted the air-leaving all oxygen purified.

Feathers torn from the gaping napes of wind began to dwindle and resist in spite of the gravity crushing tsunami.

Trapped in a facade of  impersonating flowing rain every feather dived to their unplanned descent.

All drowning in the nightmarish truth of actually being smothered in tears of a blue eyed-giant as they fell from the sky of that big blue eye’s, dead decapitated face.
A face severed on a head that hid a heavenly chateaus inside a false impersonated globe forever resting among the stars.

Inside housed all kinds of dimensional beings rarely ever seen but all known to possess legendary archaic features.
They mastered all the realms and lastly rule our skies.
They are cold warriors of combat- handled by their deadly grace, poisonous envy,  blinding halos, and suffocating wings…

Oh such undeniably divine things!

First plucked from you, then stolen from me!


A conscious belief known only by those who wish to remain unseen

as we become the common theory of all your pretty inanities.

His voice faltered at first then faded off..
He watched her slink closer,
carrying her flesh sensuously as some women can.

Her face,
a bewitching vision belonging only in dreams,
contained a gleam of beauty as the nerves of her body were continually smoldering my desire.

She slowly smiled seductively,
as she sensuously stalked him,
shadowing him like a memory of a past lover.

Inches battled for territories on both their bodies.
Then looking him flesh in the eye,
she wet her lips-mingling them with whispered words of:
"I want you" and "I need you."

Second by second seemed to loudly waltz all around them before he finally nodded.

They were intently locked on each other dulling their senses.
They were blinded by their lustful urges.
Both blinking into one another instead of seeing the rare sight of time dramatically dance by.    

"Lets get away from prying eyes.
I'll meet you." He muttered huskily.

She sneaked a kiss before slipping away at his words,
becoming lost in the crowd and completely out of sight.
He was close behind and fueled by their passion.
Bringing a heat of a thousand suns on the back of his shoulders.

In the most unusual manic-panic creep,
Wildly lurking behind every corner,
The Shadow was about to recover some ungraspable but always constantly desired idea..

A fantasy, a darker shade of fantasy: a fun fetish.
Or, perhaps, could it be foolish fanciful notions?
This fully torked delusion can be a haunting mirage.  
A make believe vintage slogan ghost from generations past.
That worn out American Dream. That Life.

THE LIFE:
-Free from the routine confusion and disorder-
Dreamed by all but known only by creatures who dream of other more sophisticated things.

Silenced but still flailing at grasping the point or any and all major traffic signs,
the Shadow returned all the acquired mixed-matched pieces and useless information slowly..

I remember because it was a autumn night.
Leaves were falling and there were trees white with moonlight.

It was a cool night overflowing with mysterious excitement that unforgettably changed the mellow quite in all bright lights.
Suddenly there was a new bustle among the stars as the speed of light left a stirring in the darkness.

-A secret above trees carried on the wings of winds-

This covert paradox of milky way wonder experienced when he kissed this girl-was a vivid spectacle of unutterable visions never mentioned but still loudly exuding a slinky lust.

This was a soul cleansing need,
a physical miracle,
***** deeds done dirt cheap overdosing religious experience with every swelling ******!

These are the divine musings of the Creator, my Creator.
These are the ideas of any other brave soul who decide to capture their essence in moments.

For a moment at one point in time, these sacred thoughts belonged to God.

For a moment,
Looking upward,
I suspected they had fallen from the sky.

Taking a long breathe, standing firm with determination, I observed every single detail.
Some of them were much better off than the rest of us-
They were no longer bound to any physical bond or any emotional ones for that matter..

From afar,
a herd of hesitating horns hysterically hushed a crescendo of errors,
cruelly cutting away and turning across a zig-zag dance that could be heard for miles.  

The moon,
brightly busy making the night sky frisky and fine,
Survived the still sound.
Gently glowing with an emptiness,
that endowed complete isolation to all wondering eyes.

The rest of us meekly posed, waiting for a quick promised death.
It was our time-it was our right.

Holding my form I became a statue.  
Delicately frozen in a formal gesture of forever farewells.

Curious Natures
In a more weak world the most aggressive advantages
don't always deal in what is referred to as "fair consequence."
Being an empire built of sharks, snakes, wolves, and rats-the most basic of beasts-
we really understand the most prehistoric philosophy: survival.
Using it as the first building blocks and the cracked foundation for this society.

Still, one must always reserve all judgements for the most lucrative habits that surprised all by opening up a vast spectrum of the most curious natures.
Leaving any who wander vulnerable to grow into a legendary victim or a menace to the community.
Often being left with a life of never being able to escape their never ending abnormal minds.

It has been speculated as well as documented, that these street racing thoughts are more than fast to attach themselves to a mythical beast more commonly known as a "mortal"  who will lose all balance and footing as they unknowingly grasp both reality and fantasy with white knuckled fists.
Stuck in this forced upon reverie of insane clarity that consumes both the mind and soul.
Becoming vessels for the sins of others, as they are suddenly privy to the most awarding secrets and gilded griefs they could never begin to understand.
Belonging to the most wildly havoc notoriously murdering confidences.
While the rest of us, close our eyes and frequently feign sleep.
All the while refusing responsibility for each other, denying a hostile yet unmistakable sign that declares the biggest secret of all: THE TRUTH.
Told in the most intimate, consuming, quivering, thundering, vibrations being smothered in a explosion that was meant for "We the People" as it projects a plethora of colours on a always changing horizon.

"The thought of  the future we will never have was pollinating foul fuzzy particles in the air, slowly following the wake of all those tasseled dreams I had held onto for all those years but had to let go."

The most intimate revelations can often expose plagiaristic suppressions that we've most likely tried to already forget. Suggesting to anyone on the outside looking in, that there is a rancid cowardice secreting from the pores of all those who would deny the most basic of fundamental decencies to their fellow man.

All the while, boasting a loud tolerance that would be found on the very last Autumn-the very last colorful arrangements of watering oranges and smothered reds our world was ever going to be privileged to witness again.
The thundering drumming of my own beating heart gave my freshly dead and bland reaction a neon personality, with a few extra *******, lingering, successful gestures that reflected a sparkly prism of tracers.

Tracers that were birthed from the most brilliant of lasers, as I was radiating something that was blindingly gorgeous, something that was heightened with more sensitivity as it shadowed over the complexity of every kiss that I had ever been given in my life..

Spinning a silk and gold web around me that was almost as intricate as an alarm sounding earth quake.

This flaccidly tight response came at a price, leaving nothing but whispers and the wrong kind of impressions at the sight of  it's unwanted face..

The time of dignity and grace felt decades away as your tiny little temperaments began to attempt to soothe me into a very still silence.

"Wooing" me and "seducing" me with such a strong touch of romantic readiness, I knew it would never be matched or found again causing me to feel a stroke of sadness at the single sentiment.  

This dramatic departure killed any interest that might have supported the abortive sorrows and short winded elation’s of men, but instead the idea of a possibly new tasseled dream, sparked me into a shimmering prism bouncing glittering, glimmering, glowing rays off my skin, as I put the shine in the sun.

Looking back,
In your previous attractions the role playing usually involved more than a pretty target.
Although it was unknown to you at the time, with each new growing experience, your perception as well as reality began to find you less subtle while betraying your most important values.
Making you cloudy as you forget that you are the one who decides if you will continue, a most clever rouse.  
Notice her perfected strategy, Notice her ultimate prize-but take heed and do not get ****** into it.
Instead use her for yourself, reverse the roles made by society created in nature as you become the prize.
Soon the unspoken secret will become clear as you are educated in the most difficult yet elementary concept of all:
Attraction is not a choice.

The faceless-ageless friends didn't find her hiding.
Instead there was a special gift,
the ability to hide in creases of time.
It hung there motionless on the wall as it had minutes ago.
But none of the minutes had gone anywhere.
Everything seemed to stop.
Whole worlds were silent as nothing moved,  not even time.

Frozen like dead bodies,
expressions of a moment were carved into faces.
They were bent into even more uncomfortable positions.
Reminding all ghosts of a city that lay in ruins,
that  they had tried to escape, that they tried to flee from the erupting volcano,
as it stayed smothered and covered in ash.

Time would never stop in this ruined world.
Alone like this, she examined her new face and her new body.
She wondered if she would ever rub past this mask.
It didn't feel the same.

I leave you kisses everywhere,
littering them like trash-dropping them here and there.
My kisses become clutter in the day to day havoc that is your life,
and mirror the stars in the sky.

They shatter a devastating echo of combustible constellations.

My kisses are time bombs of passion... possibly poison.  
I hope you pick each one up naked, and alone.
A fitting tease for denying me your lips.
Turning me into a pedestrian delivery service,
dropping kisses around a set schedule.

The sight of wind
                    spun gold..

"That also has a steep drop off the far side of Home Sweet Hell" said my soulless guide as he pointed in the direction of the nearby screams.
I could see what resembled silhouettes or smeared shadows  of something being thrown or tossed off the side of the tallest tower in sight.  
There were so many falling at once the blur of any kind of outline in this smokey medieval lighting was impossible and began to strain my eyes.
"They're throwing bodies over the edge, a necessary task for the good of our home." he continued as he watched me watching the horrific scene of what now was confirmed as bodies.
"They were rotting and now they will rot even faster engulfed in flames!" he exclaimed with a smirk. "It's quiet clever really, it serves two purposes as one form of torture while at the same time feeding the eternal damnation fires of hell. We recently have undergone new management so our productivity points have never been higher." He seemed to wear that smirk like a proud badge as he bragged about the last part. No doubt he was most likely the new management, possibly the one who would decide my fresh new hell.
He gave a new meaning to the expression "milky white" and had a paleness that was almost purple.  Freakishly tall which wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't as thin as a runway model-and that was putting it politely. He was dressed in a crimson velvet  suit like some dapper don vampire with the chilling accessory of sharp dead eyes. He exuded terror all around while stroking my anxiety in the most uncomfortable metaphorical rhythm.
With his you-know "devil may care" attitude he attempted to smooth out a newly noticed wrinkle in his crimson red velvet sports jacket.  
"Even in Hell, one must always look their Sundays best or in the flames you go!" he giggled laughing at his own joke. I neither laughed or even reacted, instead I ignored him and continued to watch the screaming falls.
The worker bees or drones-or whatever you're supposed to mindless underlings from hell, were now headed for a v-shape among the only body that was not tossed from the tallest tower. Instead it was hanging off a wall like a common prized Picasso at the end of the biggest hall in Hell. Or so my tour guide informed me.
The brutish beasts were poking, stabbing, biting, pulling, cutting, slapping, and slashing the hanging form. "Go then and take her down" My Dracula impersonator  whispered in my ear, making me jump at the stealthness it took him to invade my personal space. "Go on" he urged as he moved even more closer to me. "But-" he then said looking down the hallway "who is to say her sin is not greater than yours?" he asked while stroking his chin.  "In fact" he continued, "Save her and see how quickly you will be the one to replace her. "
I found myself asking "is her sin greater than mine?" for she no longer even resembled a "she" and I couldn't hide my disgust this prisoner she's appearance.
My five star tour guide squealed "Why heavens yes!" unable to contain it's laugher. "She makes your sin look like childsplay! he continued to cackle while saying "I wouldn't go bragging about your list of ***** deeds that got you here they are not that flattering. Or noteworthy really. You're lucky if you amount to anything other than flame feeder on Hell's roster." He then very seriously added, "but  if it was not for the Simple Sinners we would have no souls to keep most of our demons from going hungry. After all we only get fed once every hundred years when we are not topside."
I noticed the dead bodies recently just fallen into flames were starting to return slowly to our intimate greeting party. Most were empty handed or even handless, while all were naked but almost identical in the scorched rotted appearance, no *** could be identified.  
"They will be joining us for the rest of our tour" Vampire Lestat informed me following my gaze. He started walking down the hall and I followed as close behind as I could while maintaining a safe distance from both sets of company.
Without looking at me, Red Velvet started saying, "most crazies dispose of bodies because thats what they consider normal. But here in Hell, we find keeping them is productive torture. You see staying in ones body after death is unnatural and therefor uncomfortable, almost painful.  So you can see why it is useful to keep souls in their meat suits. We also make them do physical labor like any good slave when the torture has become boring and is no stimulating.
I was suddenly feeling woozy and felt confident I was just as pasty white as my velvet wearing guide.  I couldn't shake the disgusting smell of flesh, blood, ***, *****, and pizza from nose. In a meek whisper I muttered "I don't like this.." My words were greeted with a smug "Join the club Sweetheart, no one likes it here but thats the point isnt it? Welcome to your doomed end, your Home Sweet Hell. "
Tears welled up in my eyes and before they could fall to my cheek my thin velvet guide slapped me with such a unbelievable force that I felt my skull vibrating. I was shocked at the guides brute strength for such a blow and considered the possibility maybe this was a vampire. I could feel my tears start to reform and was met with another blow. This time they came with a side order of screams that said, "NO POINT FOR TEARS NOW! YOU WERENT ACTING LIKE A LITTLE ***** WHEN YOU SINNED TO GET HERE, SO YOU'RE NOT GOING TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE ***** NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE."
I had no time to protest, to react, to do anything and even if I had he was right. I knew what I was doing. My guide started pushing me while still yelling "IT'S TIME YOU EMBRACE THAT YOU ARE IN THE PITT AND THERE IS NO MERCY! NOW ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK WITH YOU!"
He threw me in the closest room  that was completely pitch black as he yelled "FRESH MEAT" that served as our farewell.
As he made his exit with his herd of bodies, his dead eyes were the last thing to see.

There was nothing remotely familiar,
I could see no one and every one all at once.
These people were lost, they were all dead.
Salem grew dark-blushing from a freshly spent temptation.
A seduction created from the ideas of rash men,
that was then danced into destiny's details by the devil.
It continued breeding shadow as every flame,
owned by the light was savagely snuffed-out.
****** was now on a most elegant hunt.
Each diminishing spark documented each ****,
becoming  a growing list of victims.
Meanwhile the thick lingering Blackness
kept a informal score as the shadow grew in strength.
Secretly, far off in the distance, a melody of sweetly soft smothered shrieks
signaled and started a symphony of serenely sobering sobs.
Sobs that began shaping and shifting into
unarticulated sighs and cries that never faltered.    
But still, it was met with one lone menacing Nightmare.
A over stayed it's welcome Terror.
It circled any remaining flame of light like a bottom feeding vulture.
Pushing it's poor neglected lies unto any and all close by ears.
It could be heard loudly whispering to your hopes and dreams:
"Fret not" it almost always began,
"For though you have truly lost it all-your lives included-
there is a promise to clothe you."
There was no hiding the disdain from it's voice or face at the last two words.
But as quickly as the emotion appeared, it was replaced
with a plastic sneer as it finished with,
"All things look good, even better, dressed in our monograms."
I found it's night terror or tall tale amusing,
meeting this Nightmare face to face
as my insistent smirk escaped my control,
unnoticed by all including me.

Sinking into you is something I find myself doing all too often.

If only you made this easier by being ignorant or oblivious.
Instead you wear the gentlmen well and I can never fault you for that.

But you started sinking into me first, it's as if you tricked me.
Slinking in the most subtle ways that I didnt even notice.

Or does this just in fact, signify exactly how predictable I am?
Am I really so easy to figure out?
But then, I cant be so simple.
After all, it did take you years with no sudden movements, no alarming sounds.
Looking back I am amazed at your diligence and unwavering patience.

Tell me, do I even know you at all? Or is it then that I am just so obliviously self absorbed that I really didnt notice our intimacy?
Our feelings that I wish I could flee from as they speak a truth not even I can say..

I'm out of my element here and falling short on how to best you or even compete.
I see you running the table in this game we have been playing.
I sink more, silenced in awe over your undeniable victory.
You, without a doubt hold the power and I can't even be a poor loser.
I guess all is fair in Love and War.

You linger in the form of bruises..
Marking a roadmap on my body of all your favorite places.
A constant reminder of the fire I wish I could deny but always give into.
Sentencing me to a death made for insects: as I become the moth drawn to your flame. Your heat is like the sun as it warms me slowly scorching my fair skin, and just like summer, I can not stay out your rays. So I'm then left with what I think is a warm heated glow that we both know is your brilliant burn.  Making all movements a reminder of you. But each reminder builds to my twisted hunger and slowly turns into cravings, cravings then become consuming and insatiable.
How did I suddenly become yours? And when did I stop being my own? I'm usually not one who give into pleasures of the flesh.. Or punishments for that matter.
Even when you hurt me I dont want it to stop, I want more.
Whats worse is you know this but that is never enough for you.
You, the almighty mind reader,  already know I want more-but no you have to hear me actually say it. Resistance is futile as we both know you will torture it out of me.  
Its one of the most crippling things you could ever make me do: beg you for more. which of course I always comply. .
I can no longer recognize myself, instead I recognize your fingerprints.
Imprinted on me for all to see, claiming me.
A constant mark announcing me as yours. Making claimed territory in this brave new world, commindeering my voice and muting me..
You are a creature I have never seen before, showing me what it means to be conquered.

Come with me to the old country and together we will find the lives we've forgotten. You can live them twice by paying the unkown price, each one, never being the same as before.
The key to your debt is to have something Beautiful Life wants:
Looks that can ****, a heart of gold, or wisdom beyond your years.
Life is always looking for the rarest of qualities that make one pure, for they are special and help shape things such as your luck.
She takes pleasure in watching you try to write your wrongs or just change your path with a fresh new outlook that sadly results the way it was the first time. Until you realize there are no changes that can be made, no new path, and no secret new ending.  
She's twisted like that.
You then find out it has all already been decided before and after you. Everything and all that dwells within was all decided before time.
You are not significant, there is nothing special about you other than that one singular thought that you are special.
Tell me what is yours that we did not give you?
Not even your rebellion is your own.
So morn your doomed future, and haunt your destiny.
Pretend you are special and show us what it's like to play God.

I forfeit you often in tiny moments lingering like age..To a titanic of an opponent I know I will never defeat. You.
You're the mighty unbreakable door, with no handle nor **** to turn, neither knocker or bell to ring. You are the only door that is not a slave to any metal. Not even a cursed object like skeleton keys can force it open and break into your secret thoughts. It opens from one side and one side only. Your side.
I've watched you slip behind your door and get lost inside yourself.. Never taking anyone with you. Slipping through time in a compelling labrynth, hidden somewhere behind those dark intoxicating eyes.  Those eyes that make me often forget what I'm saying midsentence.
The spark to the match of my irrelevant jealousy, driving me to the brink of insanity. Making me restlessly patient for your return from the door and back to reality, or the reality we physically share.
I want to get lost with you, take me through your door. I want to see more than you show, and know all the things you never say. I need your raw unyeilding commentary and this unwanted vail you hide behind lifted: exposing you bare.
I've been stealing bits of you over the years while you were unaware-but it's no longer enough.
I want to finally see all of you at once. Not the glimpses and echos that I have collected and pieced together under your nose for all these years. Like some common stalker..
That version, my version of you, is forever unsatisfying and incomplete. It will never be enough, who you are in my head and who you are when we are together, is only a shadow of the you let me see. I want the version you keep locked up, the one you  never share.You may be content being lost inside yourself alone, but even so, it doesn't have to be that way.
I beg you, stop keeping to yourself. Keep me instead.
Together, we will be the perfect trade.

-Stone Fox

I prefer the shadows these days. Brightness and "clarity" only blinds the flickle.
This darkness becomes me. For I know what it feels like to be fire, to be the element.
I was so tired of wearing that jaggedely twisted unclean smile.
These traitorous painted lips smiled at any excuse, sometimes never refusing to stop.
Only a Jester's sinister grin came close to being just as terrifying.
My new and improved stormy demeanor came with a charming and intimidating scowl.
Mornings were finally productive because i no longer found my reflection mocking me with it's constant unwilling, gentle leer.
Finally, it was your turn to smile like the menace.
My inner monster was thrilled in the shadows, no doubt already thinking up, cruel ways to make it happen.

I AM NOT A KILLER BUT MY LOOKS ****.
I AM NOT WHAT YOU WOULD CALL DANGEROUS, BUT YOU WON’T FIND SAFETY PROMISED HERE.
I AM NOT ELECTRICITY OR EXCITEMENT, BUT SECRETLY MY SOUL THRILLS ALL.
I AM NOT YOUR SONG OF LAUGHTER, NOR YOUR MUFFLED GIGGLES-BUT I PROMISE TO PAIN YOUR STOMACH WITH MANY.
I AM NO MARVEL, NOR SOME GRAND MASTERPIECE, BUT I AM THE CREATOR OF MY BEAUTY.
I AM AND AM NOT SO MANY CONTRADICTIONS.
I WILL DECIDE IN THE MOMENT.

HOLD ME IN YOUR EYES WHILE I DANCE INTO YOUR SOUL.
BLINK FOR A SECOND…
AND YOU MIGHT MISS THE SONG OF MUSES.

TONIGHT I WILL BE NAKED,
SO YOU CAN WITNESS ME IN ALL MY GLORY.

NO TOUCH BURNS GREATER THAN THAT OF YOUR EYES. BLOOD RUSHES UNDER MY SKIN PROVIDING A GLOWING HEAT WHERE YOU GAZE LINGERS.

TIME HAS NO MEANING WHEN WE ARE LIKE THIS.

TONIGHT I WILL BE NAKED,
SO WE CAN BASK TOGETHER IN ALL OUR GLORY.

THE COUNTING OF THE HUMAN HEARTBEAT PER SECOND IS THE TRUEST FORM OF PHYSICAL EXPRESSION FOR TIME ITSELF.

WHEN TIME GETS PHYSICAL THE DREAMERS SUFFER MOST, WHILE THE IMMORTALS WHISPER THROUGH THE LEGENDS LIKE WIND.

MY DARKEST DESIRE COULD IGNITE ALL OF HELL’S FIRES.
WITH MY SELF-SERVING ACTIONS THAT TWIST ALONG MY JADED INTENTIONS. MY DARKNESS HIDES IN PLAIN SIGHT AND WILL NEVER BE MENTIONED.
OUR EYES MET THROUGH A CASCADE OF STRANGERS, MY DEMON INSTINCTIVELY RECOGNIZING YOUR OWN.

IT’S UNNERVING THIS KIND OF LOVE..
UNKNOWN TO MOST AND INTIMATE WITH EVEN LESS.
DESCRIBED ONCE AS A LOVELY AFFECTION THAT CAN CUT BONE GIFTING A LINGERING CHILL.

PURE FREEDOM IS WHEN YOUR EVIL EXPERIENCES ANOTHER’S..
WICKED PLEASURE.
BOTH FIENDS WELD TOGETHER TINY PIECES OF THEIR HEART. A BOND CREATED OVER THE FIRST WICKEDLY SHARED SCANDAL. LINKING ONE TO THE OTHER FOR ETERNITY-PURE UNDYING FREEDOM.

THERE IS NOTHING AS TRULY FREE AS BEING YOUR ABSOLUTE WORST VERSION: THE NIGHTMARE YOU.
KNOWING THERE WILL NEVER BE LINES DRAWN OR REPERCUSSIONS FOR CREATING CHAOS IS LIBERATING. IT’S OBSESSIVELY TEMPTING ALL YOUR THOUGHTS. EVEN WHEN YOU YOURSELF KNOW NOT TO WREAK HAVOC.

EVERYTHING IS ALWAYS AN OPTION WHEN BEING CATASTROPHIC WITH SOMEONE REFLECTIVELY FRIGHTENING. THERE ARE NO SHAMEFUL SECRETS, HALFHEARTED LIES, OR EXPECTATIONS. IT’S INSPIRING.
MY SHADOW SELF WAS WORSHIPED AND EMBRACED FOR IT’S WILD WICKEDNESS.

YOUR DEVIL IS IMPOSSIBLY SATED AND CONTENT WITH THIS FRESHLY ALTERNATIVE HIGH. BUT THERE IS ALWAYS A SECRET TO TELL, A PROMISE TO BREAK, AND AN ITCH TO SCRATCH.
LIKE ALL MONSTERS, MINE WANTS TO LEARN, NAY IT CRAVES! TO CONQUER THIS SEDUCTIVELY STRANGE SIN.

ALL SKELETONS OF EVIL LEARN THEIR WAY AROUND THUNDERSTORMS OF CHARCOAL RAINBOWS. A DARK DEFORMED BOW IS A TRUE IDOL FOR ALL IMMORAL ACTS, CRIMES, AND TRANSGRESSIONS. THE ONLY PRIZE THAT WILL BE FOUND AT THE END OF THIS DARK RAINBOW IS THE BLACKEST OF HEARTS-SYMMETRICAL TO YOUR VERY OWN, A PERFECT MATCH.  

WILL I WIN YOUR BLACK HEART OR WILL YOU WIN MINE?

LET THE GAMES BEGIN,
IN LOVE TO BE LOVED BY A SAVAGE LOVER.