You're looking at me? You think that's right? I'll come at you from the fog on your long walk home. I'll wrap my hands around your head and twist until your neck snaps. You'll fall to the ground like a boneless sack of water. Hell, that's all you'll ever be to me. Your own fault. You're looking at me.
You're looking at me? I don't like that expression. You'll awaken one night to a knife at your breast, positioned between the ribs. One firm push and your heart is broken for all eternity, never to be repaired. You'll die slowly, clutching to me like I'm your salvation. Perhaps I am? Your own fault. You're looking at me.
You're looking at me? Oh, no, no, no. I'll look right back. I'll see through your skin and bones into the depths of your soul. I'll torment your dreams with your biggest fear, your darkest secret, you'll visit an exquisite pain you could never imagine. When you die, it'll be gasping for sanity in a world gone wrong. Your own fault. You're looking at me.
You're looking at me? I'll be flattered. I'll ply you with drinks and caress you in all the right ways. I'll slip into your life like an eel gliding through water, and I'll become the most important thing in the world to you. Then on our wedding night there'll be no enchanted evening. Only eternity. Your own fault. You're looking at me.
Stop looking at me.
[nb: previously posted in jasonandreas]