The water will burn, my brain warns, and my skin quakes, premature. As if screaming now will save it pain in the future. The skin does not know: the pain comes anyway, scream now or later.
I have a darkness within me, and like the shadows streaming from the light, it has tied itself to my soul. We are entwined together, this monster of mine, we are soulmates, in the purest sense of the word.
Cut this chord, and I am as lifeless as a puppet without strings. Cut this chord, and I lose, I am lost.
In the end, it is your heart that will guide the knife to your throat.
Who are you, really, underneath all the masks?