I found you out here in the moonlight
your eyes as dead as the stars.
Your hands as cold as your heart
your lungs as red as your scars.
And yet my stare remains unbroken
my brain whirs it stumbles a sin.
I’m almost certain you can hear it
saliva cascades down your chin.
You lift a freezing, undead finger,
and hold it in front of my face.
I can feel you in my heart,
the ultimate crimson embrace.
And when I say “in my heart”,
I am being completely sincere.
I just hope you’ve washed your hands,
you’re going to make me sick, my dear.