To stress every focal point is to tease each heartstring with venom and vicious potion. The viscous honey that seeps from your soul is my only remedy as I have remained in my own self-embraced Helheimlich frame of mind. I constantly regurgate bits and pieces of what once was, little reminders of what made me human or... alive. Each and every passing moment is a nightmarish realization that my heart had decided to bid me farewell in a different lifetime. I have tasted death one too many times to be redeemed of my sinful form. And yet, you still scream to me of the gold that resides in the blood I spill to my canvasless life. It is no more, it is no longer. 

It is a sad thing to find a man who only has his peace at the end of his binge. And yet, you find such a beautiful formula in the rose-wreaths of my being. You have been pricked by every thorn and needle of my harsh words and outlandish tendrils. Yet... You have found a home in me. Oh what have I done to you, my beautiful swan.