Your colour has inked itself across my skin, swirling into indifferent intricate tattoos and slashing into painful angry scars.
I try to dab at the colour but the fabric bleeds red and the sting sends shivers of life down my spine.
I’m only human.
You’re bleeding yourself dry and I’m soaking it in until all that is left of you is a shadow.
I’m glowing.
I’m growing,
Guilty.
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