He had a violent soul,
a tortured mind,
his lips only felt
right away from mine
on my neck,
teeth graze my pulse
and realize all at once
he could tear open my throat
and watch me bleed
instead he kissed
delight less scream of
pleasure that I felt
in that time
without knowing the crime
those feelings weren't mine
for marks to linger on my skin
but him unwanting of my
sin,
so leaving me, for another
hook, only
felt good when I didn't look.
YOU ARE READING
Existent
PoetryHighest rank: #23 In poetry. A compilation of Poems about love, heart break, depression and everything in between really. Black, white, and of course, a dose of grey.
