I walked through you a long time ago. Back when your love was something less than tangible. I crawled up inside your heart and oozed a poison, thick with love and sorrow. And you, moron that you are kept beating it through your system.
Masochist... I'm a siren, singing a snog of silence, and calling to me the men in my life. I don't want their "love." I am not an object, and the man I love will never again be my victim. You will never be my victim. Can you follow me into the darkness? Follow me into the dream?
I can feel my sorrow dripping slowly away from me, bringing in the numbing iciness it take to breath again. I feel my heart dragging in beats with every steady swipe of the blade.
I refuse to be that creature I for so long has become. I will never again lure men to their deaths with my secret, silent song.
You told me that you loved me, and, fool that I was, thought that just because I reciprocated those feelings, you weren't under my spell.
But you got worse, you craved death and madness like none other until it was no longer just your and my voices in your head. I never meant for us to be this way.
Me the hunter, you the prey. For once I longed to truly be equal, and for a while, I thought I was. You were smarter, wiser, and stronger. And my song was louder than before. I thought because you resisted me, you and I were meant to be.
But I'll not call any longer, I'm to dissipate from your dreams. When lovely blood is shed in life-giving proportions, and pain is borne to die away. The song shall falter, the bird shall die, and all that's left is the woman they say.