I heard about your news, today.
I thought it was a lie...

James' hair is greasy as hell and he
smells like rotten bologna...

The air's always more dense when they're ready to...
Like bodies leaking pieces of shattered old soul...

Waltzing in the moonlight
Aware of the slight grip or his old fingers...

Words.
In the form of insults...

Dripping, dripping, forever dripping.
Scarlet dripping, liquid dripping...

The spiral staircase
The wrought iron fence...

You've got me on my knees;
The blade is to my wrist...

I'm no more than a stone, in your eyes.
A statue, not quite made to standards...

Build up the bridges,
Burn down the walls...

Imprison me.
Watch me...

Here I am.
A narrator in your story...