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Day in, day out, my life is utterly destroyed by females. When I see two lovers intertwined in the street my heart nearly explodes with misery and I find tears brimming my recessed eyelids whenever I stumble back to my decrepit flat after a day spent working alone. The stench of liquor imbued in the walls. The velvet curtains and the soft bedlamp light can only bundle the world away for so long. The flickering shadow accentuates my gaunt face in truly magnificent colours. Weeks since I have accidentally glanced a look in a reflectively glass. My protruding ribs, my jaundice features, my straw hair. In my gloomy dreams she runs to me, her soft nipples pipeclayed in the raven sun, combs of ivory strewn throughout her matte hair. I slash her pastel neck and all my misery seems to dissipate into the murky crimson puddle beneath my feet.
