You slash me with your words. Invisible wounds inflicted. I bleed. My blood spilling in between my fingers, from the pores of my body and flows into you. A silent sob escapes my throat.
You dip your pen into me, filling it with my life's essence as you repaint me in your words. You are applauded. How beautifully he writes. So much of pain in his words. How lucky is his muse to be loved so deeply.
But I seem to be the only one who notices that all your words are stained crimson red...