death

Tu es mort. I am bored. Perfect. Electro-shock straight to my head, I look so good when I look dead. You kiss her mouth, I bite the floor, Nobody loves you anymore. Swallow the glass. Turn up the bass. I want to spit in your pretty face. Louder, louder, scream and shake, Look at the mess we had to make. Blood on the synth. No more breath. One, two, three — Beautiful death.