Threats of Love / The Manipulation of Infatuation.

It's slowly starting to creep in. The old wisps of black smoke, curling in and around me; such a seductive ghost. She holds my attention till she can crawl into my nostrils and flood my bloodstream, blot out my vision and show me what she wants me to see clearly. Oh darling, where have you been. I want to ravage her -- hand me the knife; to tear you apart and weep passionately for months. This old smoke, this old dragon, you old flame. My curling mouth says she's getting in, my quickening breath is almost a pant. I remember, I remember. Who is she? One who doesn't exist. Did she ever exist - but for living eternally? This smoke, this seductress, this woman, this sorceress, divining lunacy. How many expressions will you impel? Grabbing hold at the base of my skull, shaking free exaltation like gushing bile? Oh but it's so sweet. Sickening me, infiltrating my veins, tearing up my insides; you push me till I bleed out art. My ribs are cracked from heaving mercilessly, she loves hating the power she has inside me.

I'm only in your memory, and if you try and blot me out, even if you succeed -- I will always remember.