Tongue

I'm too dark for her light. I am who I am, and I won't apologize for it. I don't know how to be... Normal. I have my reasons. I've been through hell. I've touched the flames themselves and I've danced with the devil. Intimately. Damnation torched my soul until it was black. Then I see her. I'm enthralled, but I can't speak to her. She's too pure. Too fragile. Too innocent. She doesn't need to see my torched soul. She doesn't need to taste my damnation. I watch what I can't have. I swear I'll protect her. Even if she doesn't know I'm there. I get more... Enthralled. She loves books. I wonder if I could love them too. She loves wine. I imagine us sharing a glass. Imagination. What a tease. Enthralled. Entranced. Obsessed. She feels me there. Sees me out of the corner of her eye. I'm the reason the hair on the back of her neck is standing up. But I stay in the shadows where I belong. Until I can't. Until the day I see her cry. Those tears feel like open wounds. I want to heal them. But all she does is run. So I follow. Enthralled. Entranced. Obsessed. RUTHLESS. I won't stop until she no longer has a reason to cry. Even if it means I have to ride through the fires of hell one more time.