I was born dressed in pink.
I loved it, then hated it.
Eventually, I didn’t give a fuck.
Today, I’m still dressed in washed out blood.
(The question is: ‘WHERE does my skin start?’)
You know I’ve been naughty.
I’ve been living as a free human
(as free as a standard human
is supposed to be).
I’ve walked along too many streets, late at night,
stopped and cried out to the Dark
‘I AM inmortal, nothing can hurt me!’
Lucky me, nothing did.
(They almost fooled us, didn’t they?
Making us believe there isn’t anything
to complain about. Not now. Not here.
But there is).
Fernand Khnopff – The veil