I see.

Your soul shines, a fleeting glow, full of atrocity. All these feelings are heavier than heaven.

Every word of yours has life, each with its own personality; they are used like thorns to pierce my chest, manipulative. Why must it be this way?

I see a figure chasing me, a humanoid creature, an evil face painted black, the face of a stag, horns sharp like a thousand knives that the darkness has swallowed.

And the sky was all violet. I wanted to give this violet more violence, because I realized I wasn't the only one without a soul. Now I find myself in the stark despair of a freezing winter night, not knowing the difference between right and wrong; stuck in my worst nightmare.

Every seizure, every session, every lie has taken me away from you, but my soul rebels against it, my heart cries out for something, something that you for some reason have.

I don't understand why but I see you.

In my arms, stained crimson. At first I'm worried, I think that blood is yours, but it's not. I see you and it's a mirror. Flesh, bones and despair. You fill me, but you leave me empty. And I am sure that you are God: a predator, a creator, deciding who remains in the insignificance of life and who finds the unknown country of death. You kill without mercy, I felt it in my own skin when you took everything from me. But you left me alive. I felt alive. Is this some bad joke, some way to feed your cruel and dark ego?

Is this obsession?

If so, from you or mine? One of us wasn't prepared for this relationship to end, and I honestly want to say that's you, but my heart tells me otherwise.

After all, what is life if not a bad joke, simplistic and full of an unimaginable constancy of falsehoods. Since you arrived in my life, it's been like a pile of emotions about to explode like a volcano. It was so beautiful and unreal.

Beautiful until you show your true colors and hell emerges as a melancholic and inescapable destiny. You say I betrayed you, but what the hell else could I do?!

Starry nights make me reflect on that day. A strange feeling entering the heart of my heart, so bitter. Why me, so weak and inept, drowning slowly and painfully in a sea made up of all my mistakes and sins?

You made me see reality, what I really am; you made me feel. But every damn night I ask myself the same question that eats away at the core of my being: what is the limit to feel?

I don't know how far these feelings will go, but I know for sure that it's all your fault.

You told me you were preparing a special place for us, but I had no choice but to reject it. The cup breaks, the cup comes back together. I had to choose the light, not follow the perdition of darkness. Was I wrong? Who are you to judge me, after all, who are you to me?

I only know that I see my troubled mind fighting the dawn, dawn of being. I can't live with you.

So why can't I live without you?