Fate drags me to you,
iron shackles biting bone.
I would slit myself open,
spill red down your throat,
if it kept you near.
You speak in anger,
I listen in silence.
You spit bitter truths,
I swallow them whole.
You lash out.
I take it.
You curse me.
I bless it.
Iβd crawl through glass,
let my body be eaten hollow,
if only it pleased you.
But youβ
you would never do the same.
We both know that.
Even still, I can not let go.
For I believeβ
perhaps foolishly,
that destiny itself has braided us together,
that even cruelty is a kind of tether.
I call it fate,
this ruin,
this binding of red thread and coincidences.
For better,
For worse,
I am yours, eternally.
πππππππππππ€
Pretty words for ugly things.
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