I was never shocked
at how quickly I became
used to the way
you make me insatiable
for lips never known before,
infatuation is a danger
and I’m self-indulging,
but let me pull you down
with me. I promise
there are beautiful views
in Hell.
That stark wasteland,
putrid and silent and dark,
makes it easier to appreciate
whatever we have now. But
I’m sure you already knew
that, leading the army of
the only man more evil
than you. The flames
in your eyes I mistook for
passion never hesitated
to burn me.
How wicked. Wicked, wicked,
wicked eager me jumping
to trust you while you licked
the purity from my soul.
One day someone else will
feed my voracious appetite
and I will simply know that
numbing, blissed feeling as
“the way you used to make me feel”.
Without the smoldering core
of being used.


**V. K.