The bruise you left upon my breast deep beneath my pallor skin,
Always crawling deep within this living corpse of a body.
The quick connect between the flesh.
Crimson color fills the canvas each slam pooling it deeper.
Windpipe restricted, held and released, gasping for air in a flush of pleasure.
Pull you in deeper begging for more, I get propelled to the floor.
Pressured down and turned around I get the brunt of your force.
The aftermath is purple and blue yet I keep coming back for more.
Its never enough just the once, I'm always aching for further abuse.