Adaμ

I hate everyone but you.

You don’t see it yet, do you? The home I built for us was never meant to wound you — only to keep you close. Out there awaits a poisoned world: people waiting for the chance to sting you, to pour their madness into your veins. Here you are safe. I am the fortress that will not fall under any siege. Understand this at last: I am not your enemy.

The distance between us is shackles upon my wrists. I find myself within a shrinking skull each time you vanish. These four walls are a sponge, drinking in the very sap of my life. The stench of burning lingers — the Reaper has knocked upon the door. I seize every sound, every scent: I must feel you, lest I be ground into dust. Are you still uncertain of me? Remain by my side, always. You are my tomorrow.

I cannot hinder the creator within you. I am a living canvas. Paint to your heart's content. I am the imprint of your trials and errors. Fear not; your art shall never cease. I am a metamorph — I shall mend the breaches. Strike with pride and spite, apathy and lethargy, compliance and defiance — it matters not to me. However harsh the brushstrokes, I shall endure. I will lurk in the shadow of your glory while you make your faces. I have signed myself in fealty. Requite me likewise. Remember: I am your First Word, your Final Full Stop.

I’m going to cut my belly open.

Your word is a noose about my neck. Your tongue is keener than any blade. Should you but look upon me amiss, I smoulder, my ashes adorning the altar's gold. You are mighty, venomous, faintly deathly. You are Purgatory itself, where all know Hell is my reservation. I will taste you once. I will taste you twice. Aye, even were I wrenched from Picasso's canvas.

I don’t know how to live another minute in this world.