I will give you five minutes to tell me a story.
Five minutes only.
Five minutes to tell me about glory and gain. Five minutes to tell me about anguish. Five minutes to weave a tale of adventure and intrigue. About how your heart is broken and you need comfort. To tell me how you feel like you can't ever be truly yourself around anyone. To look in my eyes and call my tears bluff, to string heavy curtains over your heart, to quickly cover your tracks, to climb anxiously over the walls... to thrill me.
Five minutes, and then I am calling it quits. Five minutes, and then you will be chased out with torches and chanting hordes. Five minutes before the fiery multitudes descend, and the light dissolves your skin into a memory I never wanted to have.
Five minutes, and then it's over.
That's what I said twenty years ago.
But here you are... a shadowy secret in the constant replay of my transgressions.
Telling a story that just won't die.
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