Ain't Quite Right
A sort of refuge for those once victim to their desires, wanting for love, that turns sour, inverted, ghoulish. The pace tugs you along, a cathartic journey of realisation… this ‘Love’ I wanted was duplicitous and tainted. Oh purify me, of these shared sins, and allow the loosening of its grasp to wash over me in a fury. Where is the line drawn between passion and violence? I suppose you can only let your blunt intuition guide you to know: when it ain’t quite right.