and in the middle of that conversation it happens again. you look at me, bug like eyes staring straight to my into soul, obliterating everything that is sacred and good in me. and it feels so good. like morning, or sin. the sudden annunciation of what we all should know: that we all come to this world to hurt each other - Devil's favourite children playing warfare in each other's heart. there is nothing for us but this never ending elliptical dance that drives us further and further across the abyss that lies around our damned embrace.
Let us part, once more and forever.
Let the memory what never happened haunt as eternally as the promise of what could have been but never was - the violent mistakes we afford to avoid in order to ignore that our blissful dive to the comforts of hell has long ago began.
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