Ficly

Sickest Love

Such a horrid and dull day it is, for cold fresh rain is drizzling outside and the same boring drone of people and life surround me; I am drowsy and long for something that will fill my day with exquisite happiness. As I ponder every possible thing that might exist to help relieve me of my hideous mood, I can only find one way to light this gloom; I wish to find joy and interest while talking to him.

He always speaks of the sickest, sweetest, blackest, and most delightfully intriguing things that never cease to send shocks of lust and delight through my fragile body; therefore, everything has become even more unpleasant than it once was before I met him because he is simply so alluring and alien with his words. If I ever do set foot near him in reality, I might collapse from the force that draws me to him like a sadistic murderess to blood; such a passionate muderess. I suppose that I will remain in this foggy haze until I exchange beautifully dark words with him again, for that is all I thirst for.

View this story's 3 comments.