And the music plays on.

My bleeding heart burns in acid.

See these creatures.

Know their stories.

Slit my throat and steal my blood.

Lemon juice fills the wounds.

I loath that smell.

The smell I envy.

She reaked of lemons long ago,

as she stole the my well being.

My harmony.

Everything.

My child.

And yet somehow the butterflies sing among her footsteps.

My baby sings the butterfly's song.

Still I linger, unable to funtion

absent of the feeling of him in my arms.

In this abyss much further than any rabbit hole could compare.

Soon the darkness consumes me.

Hands grow colder.

Twist my words,

and steal my soul.

Mind sunk silent.

Breathe in deeply...

Lemon Juice.

-A.F. <3