She glares, in contempt of her cage.
She bites the bars.
She screams her rage.
Her sun thirsty skin stretched over a soul
too big,
too bound,
too much for this tiny cathedral.
The ceilings of her Sistine Chapel rebel against
her plaster skull.

They waltz in her spotlight,
fighting over her camera's eyes.
look at me
They flick their tongues,
bat their painted lashes.
They flash their brilliant colors,
their brilliant intellect.
Prey lying in the arms of predator,
they sacrifice sanity for the ecstasy of her madness,
just a taste of her sacred communion.

She drifts,
one to the next, because they're all the same.
They make promises they can't keep
for the sake of romance.
They marvel wide eyed, because she's not the same.
Absorb her until they can't,
and hobble away, broken.

They won't stop though.
Cracked like a whip on their tender skin,
they come back,
limping and smiling.
Her weakness in the devotion playing on their
bitten, pouting lips.

"Love me." said The *******
                                                                          **"Always." said The Sadist"