And I've Touched Worse, But The Smell's Starting To Get To Me

The candle wax is melting around our swollen eyes. I've touched worse, but the smell's starting to get to me. As for what I heard, what if I told you I'd already forgotten? Or maybe, misplaced some information?

I'd be intrigued, too. Worried, but a bit on the curious side at the same moment. Perhaps you should move a little closer, examine the faulty.

Oh, might I've forgotten you've wax capturing your reason at the moment. Perhaps you should clear that? With some bleach, maybe?

Can't you forget me for one moment? Every time you think of me, my eyes shutter close. Let go of what we used to be; there is no more. We're mere fragments of the reality we tried to hide from. But now reality is here.

Stop staring at me with those crazy eyes. They frighten me, yet at the same time, you're so intriguing. Oh, we can turn away our heads and pretend like every thing's the same, but when you look at it again, just out of the corner of your eye, you see (and admit) for the first time, that you just may be wrong. Very wrong indeed.
Mmm, that chill we always feel reaches us once again. You begin to wonder... is that the last thing you'll ever feel?

Being as it may, even with as lost as you are, I assume you're bound to find your way back, sooner or later. Perhaps the latter, but that oh so unknown time will tell is. One day.