Who am I to you? Help me understand. There is blood on my hands, hard and baked in, as if I spent my morning committing murders. The blood belongs to me. It tastes of tepid regret, but gets sweeter every time you kiss me, rose quartz ringing in my ears, rose petals in my hair,…

There is a nervous energy in the air, a long, lonely corridor, unfriendly doors, question marks in blood, drip down the wood, flooding at my feet. I wade in wine. I stopped drinking for the summer, because I felt dehydrated. I had cried the sweetest months away, and there was nothing left, but still, I…

I pretend I can’t remember the past, demons become angels when you don’t feed them your fear. Mine are starving, that’s how I like them, baying for my blood, with a shady smile upon their lips. I hold you all night, and I am not afraid. Holding onto the idea of our empire, mountains made…