Vines travel up and around my writhing body
They close around my throat
Cover my eyes and my mouth
They cover everything and leave me to rot beneath them
For it gives them joy;
Watching me decay and hurt
They'll find somebody new to feed their needs when I'm dead
Or maybe they'll find somebody better, tastier, and leave me helpless, gasping for breath, before I die
Maybe I like the control
I didn't want to give in but I did
I liked the feeling of suffocation that it gave me
I loved the feelings of darkess and the constricting your vines did for you
I loathe the feeling of being alone and starving for your idea of love
YOU ARE READING
storms and blood
Poetrythe death of which is unknown -figured out between the lines of within these pages
