I could stay with you until your dreams drip out of the veins you cut. I could act awake until you softly wake up, empty. I could take the liquid neon to a place where there’s no rest, a place where a fire always burns. A place where your heart might call home, a dark, polluted place where you grew onto yourself. Come, slip into your dress. We shall go for a walk to the valley of unknown. Let us then spread a light of least brightness, just enough for us to walk further into the darkness. We will then hunt, hunt with our hearts to find that one thing, the one thing that shuts your spirit down. You will then pull out your transparent sword, shining with purity of such intensity that its mere sight cuts slits on the eyes of the beholder. Then, when we find that fear, the sword shall find its prey, and we will wipe it clean with our bare hands. I will take you to the neon forest of your dreams, the green glowing leaves will find you peace, will find you rest and calm like never before. Our fire will still be burning bright and warm enough for the both of us. Hand in hand, we would lay back into the bed of glowing green leaves and get lost.
There were candles burning with a soft sweet smell, inside the eerie room. Voices muttered inside her head. She floated in, wearing an elegant pearly dress that illuminated her face in a sinking but deep calm. A shadow moved somewhere outside as she closed the large window. The man sat at the table, his face half lit by the dim light. Her scent played around in the air with something else that he couldn’t comprehend. The brick walls reflected the glow in a darker shade, shifting the room into further uneasiness. She sat down next to him, and stretched her hand towards his head, in a gesture to comfort the fears he hid. His eyes seemed dead and stone-like. She inhaled sharply, feeling the cold resting on his shiny sweaty skin. Death lingered. The cut had been deep and concealed, the doctor said the next morning. Her death that followed, left scars that remained no secret.