Cas Banierink

I asked her if she had any thigh high stockings and if she would wear them.
She did not but told me she would.
I said it was fine.
I took off my mask and put on a blindfold.
I always cover up my mangled face.
She sat down on my lap and placed her hands around my throat.
They were cold hands but I did not mind.
Even though it did not make a difference, I closed my sad eyes.
I was tired, you know.
But I guess she was too, and so are you.
My love.
I heard the world give a sigh of relief.
And I was the only one. The one who cares.
Who cares.
For it is too dark out there. So very dark.

I came, she saw, we conquered.
Maybe it will actually mean something.
In the very end.
The end.