Disclaimer: Still don't own them, they own me.

Warning: potentially disturbing images

A/N: It totally wrote itself. Honest.


I watch you on your way down, mourner at the shallow grave as the walls of the coffin of your life slide into place and your past self descends into tart scent of cedar wood I have nailed together with my own hands for you permeates the air like smoke, and I open my mouth to drive the nails deeper.

Nails of revenge, nails of sacrifice.

Here I stand, hand in hand with my devastating salvation and contorted fibres and a rope around my neck. Make the bells toll when you rise again, falling star, tear of Orion on his way to the sea.

Drowning the sorrow at the cost of pride.

Here I stand, by the wound carved into the welcoming body of the earth that sucks Her life away like a greedy infant on the breast of the dying mother. The words spilling past my choking lips as the ember of your ephiphany graces them. A voice of rustling leaves, smelling of dust and frail like heaven, it turns to ashes at the touch of my consciousness.

These bitter words, they must seem a lot like hatred... I had to tell you myself before *they* did, because from me, you knew it was true. In the bodiless light seeping through the cracks in me, do you see the dawn of your eyes?

Here I stand with my book of lies and dissolve my ragged self in you. I put on this red mantle of dying life, torn conscience of the beast. Under its rich folds I hide, in this thick and soft suffocation of rotten glory and bought filth that taint me with truth.

I watch you on your way down, falling star, soul-ripped comet in the night of void, a gap between two threads of a poisonous spider web. Make the bells toll and I will hold you in the palm of my red gloved hand, morning star, bringer of light, waiting for the valkyries to descend and spread the rainbow under your feet.

In the smoke of our radiant memories I see your silver beauty laced with iridescent hatred. I will feed it with the broken light of my eyes. I will make the sacrifice, I bow my head to you and on the ruins of my life I offer my neck to the knife.

From the thorn that pierces my heart, the pain blooms words you will never hear. Stuck in the velvet of my throat they freeze into a thousand bleeding shards as I wait for an answer.

You won't deny me with my knees in the dust and decay in my breath, will you, my beautiful tormentor, my wrathful archangel?

I hold out my last apple to you, perfect, immaculate as I used to be. Take it. Rip it apart with your teeth. Swallow. Yours.

I watch as it hits the ground, rolls, rolls, rolls and...

*What have you done?*