Feb 2016
i look at her and i see innocence. a corrupt innocence. she is torn in subtle ways, unnoticeable unless they are unfamiliar. her scars are hidden behind a wall of silence. she has a quiet rage; she is the fearful, she is the feared. her touch is not gentle: it is fierce. it is unforgettable. she will burn through your skin. she will burn through your mind. she will consume you; she has been hungry for oh so long. her tears are hot, they stem from the fire in her heart which burns even brighter when she is in chaotic comfort. she tries to hide that seed of darkness but it just seems to grow. she tries to hide the blood on her hands but you can't wash away your mistakes.
many see her as arrogant, certain, magnificent: absolutely terrifying. only she knows what the scene looks like once the curtains close.
regret and misery.
mistakes. so many mistakes. she tries to fade into the background: a silent stain on the wallpaper. but her shocking eyes ignite the paper and set fire to everything she sees. she is indestructible- she is destruction. a simple flick of her auburn hair will make you fall to her feet. and she knows that. she knows it all too well. she knows the power she has over the hearts and minds of others. to them, she is a mystery. but she knows that she hurts everything she touches. the gloves won't keep away the knives that protrude from her fingernails. the bounds won't constrain her. she can't be tamed. she needs to ****. she needs to feed: slowly draining you of all you've ever loved. she's numb. she's waiting. she's lurking in the shadows: praying no one will stumble upon her personal hell (heaven?) but intrinsically hoping some innocent will come her way and give into her sweetest desires.
i look at her pale skin and bleeding lips. i look at her eyes with galaxies, constellations, the zodiac and beyond. i look at the gentle sway of her hips. i look at the way her tongue licks the corner of her mouth. i look at the way her fingers curl in a deady excitement. i look at the way she speaks words of wonder; the final words they will ever hear.
i look at her: *and i see myself.
many see her as arrogant, certain, magnificent: absolutely terrifying. only she knows what the scene looks like once the curtains close.
regret and misery.
mistakes. so many mistakes. she tries to fade into the background: a silent stain on the wallpaper. but her shocking eyes ignite the paper and set fire to everything she sees. she is indestructible- she is destruction. a simple flick of her auburn hair will make you fall to her feet. and she knows that. she knows it all too well. she knows the power she has over the hearts and minds of others. to them, she is a mystery. but she knows that she hurts everything she touches. the gloves won't keep away the knives that protrude from her fingernails. the bounds won't constrain her. she can't be tamed. she needs to ****. she needs to feed: slowly draining you of all you've ever loved. she's numb. she's waiting. she's lurking in the shadows: praying no one will stumble upon her personal hell (heaven?) but intrinsically hoping some innocent will come her way and give into her sweetest desires.
i look at her pale skin and bleeding lips. i look at her eyes with galaxies, constellations, the zodiac and beyond. i look at the gentle sway of her hips. i look at the way her tongue licks the corner of her mouth. i look at the way her fingers curl in a deady excitement. i look at the way she speaks words of wonder; the final words they will ever hear.
i look at her: *and i see myself.
be careful, love, you're treading thin ice.
