Kill

and be killed.
Then beg to be loved.

I should've went with the original plan: Keep walking and don't mind the fireworks in the sky or in hearts. Two years ago, I went for the kill. I captured my game, I won. A year after, I gave up my crown and had the beast drag me because it was after all- just a wild animal and I was the human being. Since then, I've willingly raked the savanna with my body. And on our anniversary, the beast let go and left me to the hyenas. It's a strange thing to beg for love in the midst of houses and houses filled with all the love and laughter in the universe on the very night designed to love and laugh the most. Again, I went for the kill and now both of us have fallen prey to my own animosity.
In the background, the killers sing: I got soul but I'm not a soldier.
Happy second anniversary.