monsters like us always return to their roots
Hail to the black blood mouth. Hail to the wine-stained teeth. Hail to the flesh-tearer, the dream-consumer, the bone-breaker, the strife-layer. Hail to the mad god with eyes wild green, with purple-stained lips, with red turning crisp and dark underneath his nails. Hail to the one who smashes me to pieces, and hail to the one who builds me back up again.
I’LL SEE YOU IN HELL WHEN WE DIE