I never tend to read my old posts. Yet when I do, I’m amazed at how I remember so little of my own words. It’s like it was written by someone else. A year ago almost to the day I wrote this, and I don’t have a fucking clue what I was on about.
When you taste my plague, how does it make you feel?
Those thoughts that blossom in your mind when I reveal myself to you, how much is pleasure and how much is pain? With blackened eyes and hardened bones, I’m something you can never escape from. You know my name, but can never bring yourself to say it. You try to deny me, to banish all traces of what I am, but I’m always here. Creeping in the shadows, waiting for the moon to come show me the way. When you’re in bed and on the threshold of dreams, I slip in through the window and caress the very heart of you. Whispering into your ear, I quicken your pulse and make you shiver. Uncurling beneath the sheets, your body yearns for my touch. The beads of sweat that cling to your forehead, the sighs that rise from your open…
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