JudasChrist

This grey aura that you see, it's the city's colour. Once attached to Her like a second flesh, now sick and pale, crawling to the ground, and getting devoured by the shadows that we all spawn through doubts and broken "goodbyes".
You can actually touch and kiss this dirty cloak, but never forget that it's the one responsible for the bitter taste of retreat and the cold feel of the prison bars that you touch in every one of your daily routines. You can only pretend that you care for it, and you can only mess with its feelings, like it did with you. You can even deceive it, make it believe that you want to caress it, and then stab it with your fingers that are now the nails and your teeth that are now the canines. And when it bleeds enough and screams in agony, keep biting it some more, till your jaw gets shattered by the hate you release, and your lips become scarlet snakes, which hiss in the desert without mirages, the once called "communication".

And when its filthy body lies unconscious in the pavement, swim through the shadows once more; use your enemy wisely. Become one with their venomous touch and silent whispers. Let them gently rub and suck your dick, even if you know that later it'll get teared to pieces by their fangs; everyone sacrifices something precious to destroy his target. And when you're one of their lovers, and one of their children as well, spread the grey cloak's feet widely, locate its cunt and violently penetrate it again and again.

and again, and again, till red becomes the colour of love again.

Oh, Mother,
I wish I could say that I still care about you,
But even though I'm a dirty animal,
A cheater, a bastard without home and morals...

...a liar,
I am not.

__________________
We are falling, like the Mourning Sun.

-McCoy follower since forever.
"Pray for Leviathan, pray for me"