---

Allow me to warn you. Allow me to say when you fuck with angels you fuck with fire

It makes the author turn to arson. It’s not art if you try to make it look like an ancient

Real fires are retold by ghosts. I’m sorry I just sat there. I’m sorry it was so damn silent

It’s hard to speak with a vice in your mouth. I’m sorry I just sat there. I’m sorry it was so damn violent

It’s hard to react with your spine falling out. We’re throwing knives from bedroom windows

Those ghosts won’t croak. Fucked our faces to the grindstone

Those eyes make you look livid. Those legs make you look perfect

Does this help? Does this hurt? I want you to see the fires I made

And feel your knife in my ribcage

Does this help?

Does this hurt?

I’m sorry I just sat there

I’m sorry it was…

It was so quiet