He’s constantly drawing you in. And you’re constantly stepping too close. And you know it’s not good—that there is no good—that there’s absolutely nothing that can ever come of it. But you do it anyway. And then… Well. Then you burn.
sometimes i speak in riddles and metaphors but i don’t always mean to. it’s just in my nature, baby. it’s just what i do. you know all the deepest pieces, but you cannot fit them into one picture so i will sing it for you in a song someday. i will tell you everything that went wrong.