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We had this talk in the dark because you can’t deal with seeing your face in the mirror during day light. And I understand how you feel about that. There are days when I avoid my reflection out of fear it might reveal my true intent on a whole other level.

Can you place a bet on us two being something of a chance happening by pure luck in a limited amount of time, caught somewhere on a hinge in an old universe swallowing itself slowly? I’ve got the feeling this is what your insides feel like. Burning flames licking up my thighs and raw hisses tickling my ears.

Sweetie, if I’d known what kind of beast you become when my words melt before your hands, wouldn’t I have known how to deal with you…and it’s not a question.

You went into frenzy, you lost your cool. I watched you turn and growl at me, or so you thought you were doing. But all you are is my figment of imagination from years past. I tried subtly telling you why you made me do what I did, throwing gasoline on your ashes. I wanted to let you know that you made me think of myself, way back.

Maybe, last night, you spoke nonchalantly, but of eerily vivid strokes in circles forming beneath an ashen layer in my heart. You have no idea how long I worked on maintaining control, no matter what and no matter where. And to you, everything you performed became the moves of a lonely fool, a useless tool.

For a split second, I knew you to be like me.

And instead of working my claws into your heart, tearing and splitting and eating your bloody remains, I unfolded a soft cloth I hide in another drawer of my own soul, taking out a glowing little key, finding your vulnerable spot and turning it carefully back into place.

Do you still believe my act of rage and anger and think me to be an arrogant and terrible creature, or have you now seen my caress?

Your hands are trailing up all to my eyes, and I fear for you.

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