The wounds still bleed.
Dead thorns still hurt.
Deadlier the poison-
sweeter the taste.
Unavoidable temptations,
I'm forever hooked.
It's claws sink deep,
death-hold so tight,
there's no turning back.
The grasp on my neck,
choking and painful-yet somehow soothing.
Ease the ache,
but tighten the hold.
Is that normal?
To crave something you avoid?
To love the pain
when you loathe the blood?
To want you near
when you make me bleed?
To wish you well
when you left me bare?
So tell me now
Am I normal?
For making you smile,
when you never cared to ask
why mine is long gone.
~si
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PoetryM O N A C H O P S I S the persistent feeling that you're out of place or don't belong. A collection of poems.
