Red nails
On your pale skin
I trace
Your many memories
They've been cut
Into your very chest
Penetrating
Your core
So it seems
That I have a type
For the worst possible
Men
And the most possible
Pain
Your arms
Tight around me
My thighs
Around your waist
And you lead me
Down dark hallways
When I know that
Most would regret
The very oppurtunity
To have you
While I relish
In every single moment
They scorn us
With their tiny minds
And worthless thoughts
When you push me down
Those dark hallways
And I can hear
The demons' laugh
I smiled
And laugh along.
We are close friends
After all,
We've spent many years
Close together
As you and I are now
So it seems
That I have a type
For the worst possible
Men
And the most possible
Pain
And I like it
Cause you make
Everything wrong
And that makes it
All right.
Red nails
On your skin
Tracing scars
That I've put
On your heart.
But
If I like it:
You definitely do
And we make
Quite the pair:
The Cursed
And the Scarred.
So it seems
That I have a type
For the worst possible
Men
And the most possible
Pain
YOU ARE READING
Euphoric
PoesíaSeventh album. Maybe I'll slow it down and not post for a while after this one. I think I'm going a little too fast on my updates. Making up for being a bum this summer I guess. This one is a little different than all the rest, btw. Probably similar...
