It's like kissing the undead, his lips don't feel the same, his stare is cold and blank, and all sensations are telling you to run, but you never had the chance. You are his forever, or at least forever now, cause if you really wanted to, you could turn around, leave this place without a sound, but you don't want that, and I swear you never did, because of how you love the pain, oh how it's torturous. But I am not a lover only but the loved, learning how to kiss with these lips of withered skin.
Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:33 PM UTC
It's like kissing the undead, his lips don't feel the same, his stare is cold and blank, and all sensations are telling you to run, but you never had the chance. You are his forever, or at least forever now, cause if you really wanted to, you could turn around, leave this place without a sound, but you don't want that, and I swear you never did, because of how you love the pain, oh how it's torturous. But I am not a lover only but the loved, learning how to kiss with these lips of withered skin.
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