Your passion is poison and
aggressive like venom.

With your teeth in my lips,
and your firm grip
in my ***-tangled hair,
I was pressed tightly
against your door.

My heel marks are
probably still on that wall,
persistently reminding you
of those nights where
we never made it
to the bedroom.

Your wrists were already scarred
but now so are mine,
with the memory of
your fingers firmly around them.