sweet taste of hipocrisy, but do not forget it's me you're dealing with. poisoned hugs, questionable smirks, occasional sympathy, occasional kindness. and yet there she was, up agaisnt the wind, magical air corridors against her skin, beneath the lace of her dress, soft shining in her hair, unbreakable, smirking, smiling, tears down her neck, unseen. vengeance and rage, in a hurry down her spine, like an army through her veins, finding a soldier at every corner of that bloody hell of a place. lies, a pyramid of lies, a pyramid of exhaustion. a man that tries to climb and always breaks his ankle, falling down the golden stones, impecable, like gold, against the dirty, though ground. a girl in a bathroom floor, a girl in an empty room, a girl in a middle of a crowd. the lovely taste of silent sweet agression, going unnoticed, how easy it is to fall for rage. monstruous rage, claimed as more monstruos that it is, unreal danger, stupid little threat, girl sitting in green sheets of wooden bed. things that can kill, that sixty years after seem so little and yet, how we felt the insects crawl in our skin. and yet, the things we are capable of doing, due to how we feel, and that's one hell of a way to treat other people.