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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1811265
paranoia, devotion
Have you ever had that feeling, when you’re in the dark or walking home alone at night, of pure paranoia and adrenaline sinking deep into your bones? The fear that maybe, just maybe, something really is behind you? That’s what we can do to you. It’s like a lion looming above you, ready to pounce. Her damp breath ghosts over your skin, driving the disgustingly sweet smell of blood and decaying, rotting flesh into your nostrils, infecting your brain. That is what we can do. You begin to obsess over us, wondering where we are, what we’re doing, will we come back? That is how we poison you. Soon, you’ll think of nothing else. Then, we start showing up again, raising your hopes, making you think we actually do care, and then we tear away all signs of affection again, just to see you squirm when we’re gone. That is what we love. When we finally have you hooked on us, have you depending on the sight, sound and thought of us, we will have complete control. You won’t care about anything else, your friends and family will leave you alone, afraid of what you’re becoming. Only when you wake up, covered in blood just one more time, will you mourn for your lost soul. We have successfully taken you, and used you, just like all the others, so don’t take it too personally. You’re just a filthy animal, after all.
© Copyright 2011 Marianna (xsabreblood at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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