every ******* thing you said to me is hidden in the syllables of your name;
and every time i call out for you it all comes back rushing over me
like a storm;
it feels like electricity snipping onto every inch of my skin
seconds of pleasure;
a thousand minutes of pain
-but its worth it when you look back at me and i can see you feel the same.

Its not his name i call,
but him,
because his name within itself is now a feeling,
that i feel;
for him.

"you picked me out,
ripped from the core,
my soiled soul,left to be torn,
picked apart to pick your bones
you get,you don't
yet i lay on the floor."

"i fear.
we burnt out
and i
thereafter-
drowned in the ashes of us"