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Megan Carista Jun 2011
Like cool water, you slip down into my heart. Your icy love an addicting pleasure to my lust. As I lay in wait for you, spread out on silk sheets of gray, merely existing for the day you set me free.

Quick-quick silver, oh my lover. How I wait-wait for your love to drench me in your glow. Carry me, so far into your darkness that I can no longer bear to breathe.
Megan Carista Jun 2011
What a pretty color.
Such a rich shade that covers a pale canvas of flesh.
A color so vibrant, so real, it was milked from the wounds from thine own skin.
How does it feel faux lover?
The bane of my existence.

I could count the drops of color if I just took one step closer to this painting.
Are you in agony?
Does your heart clench and twist as mine does?
As I stand in this pool of crimson liquid, I whisper to deaf ears.

I was such a troublesome creature to tame.
Did you think that by luring me with your appeal, that I would eagerly await your ****?
I am not so fickle as to fall for a man as wretched as you were.
Were. were. Were.

How does it feel, my faux lover?
Your empty, soulless eyes reflect in mine own as black as midnight.
Such a gentle ******.

I shake and quake as I reach a stained hand to fall against a cold, pale cheek.
Ahh, lover mine, our shades match.
My eyes close in bliss as the last drop flows from the canvas I have created.
Such a beautiful color.
Megan Carista Jun 2011
A touch of red through an endless haze of onyx.
Marks of madness grazing the pale angle of your neckline.
Black locks spun from the finest of elders, touching just the skin of your shoulders.

To many, you are a God.
To me, you are but a man.

One with faults.
One with Courage.
One with strife.

But where is your courage now, oh warrior of men?
As you stare me down, betrayal clear in those dark depths.
Where, oh Where, will you run?

You can not hide in the darkness.
For I am already there.
You can not hide in the light.
For your skin it can no longer bare

Where will you go?
Stained with the liquid of sin.
Drenched in the smell of my skin.

There is no where to run.
No place to hide.
Face me with your courage, warrior.
We shall see if you will survive.
Megan Carista Apr 2010
You smell just as sweet as before.
Life flowers.
Roses and blood.
Both such warm, rich colors.

The smell is absolutely delectable.
So intoxicatingly sweet, it burns in the back of my throat.
Who knew your scent would drive me crazy?

I let the stained knife slip through my fingers,
It hardly makes a sound against the satin sheets.
Did it really have to go this far?

Beautiful.

You are so beautiful.
It's no wonder I love you to death.
Copyright Megan Sonnier 2005
Megan Carista Apr 2010
I call upon The Sacred Line
That holds within a darkened Shrine.

Use this Cypres to guide our way.
Use this Thyme to see our prey.

A blood red petal to hold our own,
and the blood of a lover, to test the bond.

So come to me of time across,
To help us see what we have lost.
Copyright Megan Sonnier 2006
Taken from one of my many books.
Megan Carista Apr 2010
Midnight talks and short walks
***** in lemonade and jello in a cup.
It's when spring gets mixed with summer and the weatherman's never right.

It's rain in the middle of beach day
and a fight in the living room at night,
It's the moment he walks up to you,
Then turns and walks away,
and the anger when you find out he wanted her instead.
It's learning wrong from right and knowing he can't sleep at night.

It's a cup of hot chocolate, on a chilly winter night.
or a large strawberry snow cone,
With a brain freeze at half-price.
It's knowing your not perfect, nor the person standing next to you.
So take it as it is, Life's too short to be misused.
Copyright Megan Sonnier 2008
Megan Carista Apr 2010
A Porcelain Doll
Upon a Shelf
In A secluded room.

Lifeless eyes,
and cold, glass hands
Holding a silver spoon.

A flash of light
In a dark corner
Where those eyes are locked.

An empty figure
Against a wall
A candle that he dropped.

Now let me tell you,
Tell you my friend
About this little doll.

It killed a man.
A Man, I say!
And never moved at all.
Copyright Megan Sonnier 2008

— The End —