Like a candle burning. You place your fingertips just above the luminescent butterfly of it’s shinning gaze and you feel your skin pulsating. Burn. Deep, mourned out flesh eating burns, with blisters full of acid. Pain. Fire. Sweet pain inflames your conscience screaming at you: You’re alive! Embrace your life! And hurt through this bitter burn, baby! Come on, you can do it! Just one more second! Taste that smell of your corpse. Realize your nature. Your instinct. Fight it! You’re just like your candle… burning.
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