Taste...want, feed. She looks up at me offering herself. Eyes of azure fire, her lust is a color red so rich, so deep. Her eyes are my tomb, endless oblivion. I shall drown in the hot crimson tide that ebbs and flows to her own internal gravity. In her hands alone I am helpless, bound by my own fear. Pulled along by a fierce wind that emanates from the hole in her heart. Sucked into the vortex of her pain.
Ahhh sweet, sweet irony. I am but a trinket in her pocket. The great hunter brought down by a doe. I shudder in fear for this female child of earth, for if she touched me I would become undone. Unwound like a piece of twine.
Down and down into the bottomless depths of her soul I fall on and on, never finding ground, never finding peace. There is no fury like a woman scorned...except that of a woman not yet satisfied.
YOU ARE READING
A little bit of me..like a hunk of bloody meat ;)
PoezjaJust some random poetry from my collection of strange thoughts.
