She strums my nerves, over my spine. Her finger tips like sex and my head sways into darkness. I feel her leaving, growing distant, but she kisses me anyways and drowns me out.
Her love is a burden, stutting around wounded, shamed, a degraded Aphroditie- stripping her clothes in the rain, tatters in the street.
My skin itches and burns and she soothes the pain with her tongue, biting my nipple.
The sheet strangles, stained with bloody love and a forgotten cigarette. Ashes and holes fill our passion, increases the rush as she breaks skin.
and I bleed.
Between her legs.
Windows break and I hear music playing backwards. Rhapsodies on bones of infant lullabys. There are no children in this world. Innocence is just a myth
and I bleed.
I rip her hair out. In anger? in lust? Strands slicing into my fingers, warring with tusses and muscle.
I commit a million suicides inside her
and I bleed to be reborn again.
The sheet strangles, stained with bloody love and a forgotten cigarette. Ashes and holes fill our passion, increases the rush as she breaks skin.
and I bleed.
Between her legs.
Windows break and I hear music playing backwards. Rhapsodies on bones of infant lullabys. There are no children in this world. Innocence is just a myth
and I bleed.
I rip her hair out. In anger? in lust? Strands slicing into my fingers, warring with tusses and muscle.
I commit a million suicides inside her
and I bleed to be reborn again.
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