<You're not *****, you're hungry
and the flesh you taste is not the one you choose

It's a darkness and a light
A salve and an open wound
Bodies mix and twist

You don't want to be ******
You want to be satiated

And if your sheets could talk, darling
They tell of the loneliest *******

Paint yourself blue and bleed out
Sensual sins succulent like honey
Licked lips waiting for more

Darling there's never enough

>If sheets could talk, they would whisper sins.
Your voice of calm magnetic enigma, yet, your body screams for more.
You pull me, twist me, wrap around me, riding me.

Lonliest ******* of a saint waiting to be loved.
Instead, ******* the wrong, and bleeding with pain.

Love me, she says. Hurt me, she says. choke me.
Sensual, and so seductive. You pull me in.
Daddy... She screams

There's never enough, she just wants more, she pleads with a hungry heart, because he can't love her like she wants him to, so sin, succulent like honey, is what she needs to choose.

a year
in its entirety
since my heart
turned to glass
burned
like a silver comet
plummeting
to drown in the sea
sunk to the depths
lost
as if it were a message
placed in a bottle
it's gone
just a shadow of what was
a single vein
a string
nothing more
just numbered days
that i should have let go of
a long time ago...