Just so fucking raw. The sickness of it all is truth, the spilling, dripping and staining of all the red. The muscles pinching the ribs in a dangerous tango of health and thirst. Clenching the bottle, grasping the foot. Alone is messy, nights massacred and days forgotten. But even with the plainly fake resemblance of something passionate, true, and beloved the anger and resentment is softened among a curse. Brutal killings, rape, loss of any inkling of remorse and an indistinguishable fire burning rampant. An executioner, murder or just an unpaid butcher. Just so fucking raw. The devilish parasite would tie his soul to his ankle, crush his heart to his thigh, bending to the length of hell he would. Only to be numb. What was known as right was not him, imprecise, inaccurate, unjust. Corrupted because of a hickey that bled more and more until life was gone, a draining accident that changed EVERYTHING. This Vampire, this villainous meat seeker, only wanted the chance to make love to the woman of his dreams. Now. Now he was still seventeen years old and she was two hundred and six rotting bones beneath the cemetery floor. Clearly undeserving, unforgivable, unjustified, unwanted and essentially unknown. A ghost of a man once with purpose. The cold, chilling flesh of a pulse once present and the raw action of a heartbroken monster gone rogue. Just so fucking raw.
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