Inject direct narcotic dreams, the dream police are coming. Glazed eyes, grazed knees and carpet burns from last night's neurotic attempts to claim affection. Hands in the air for pushing blindly on in search of what, of love? A rush of blood to the mouth. That's it. Scarlet gush, crimson fuck, like it or not bites and burns, bruises and black eyes. A quest for 'love' when all this is yours, if all yours is mine. An easy trade for a willing slave; the mirror only shows up the body parts that don't match, a pick and mix of carved up flesh and strangled breaths. I can control your breath, I can teach you to endure worse than anyone else will dare to test you with. Ask, it will start. Beg;
Shake, scream, cry, plead; too beautiful to fuck, but what happens now, your death . . is love.
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