Come…
let white death kiss my tongue,
and the black in Armenian can stay..
cold and clean as your lie,
let love learn how to bruise
from the inside out.
Come…
you slipped the blade in softly,
like a promise,
and left me bleeding silence.
I don’t want mercy now.
I want the numb.
I want the burn.
I want the ghost of you..
and the ruin you made...
Come..
Don't fade...
Because my perfume lasts longer..
Than you ever can...
An1, 2025