Dig at the scab
Watch the blood
Readied in its chamber
Before
Spilling out
Red-hot bullets
Beauty soft and sharp
Needle-edged kiss
We show our fangs
Weak-kneed by blood lust
You tear into me
A hunger lost
In the dizzying pollen
The oils of your skin
A sweet honey
You cave to the taste
While I become alone again
Drowning in the effervescent musk
Twilight lost in the bleeding dusk
I've lost the metaphor,
The melody
Carries on.
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Published by delightedpessimist
I am the delighted pessimist. Purveyor of sadness, happiness, and everything in between. Also cheesy statuses because I never know what else to put here.
View all posts by delightedpessimist
Beautiful writer. I feel the pain s sting wohh th every phase
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