Our every word that comes out has the potential to **** when your seemingly fragile but villainous lips caresses my weaponed tongue encouraging the venomous noise to be reborn again and again. Soft yet viscious touch. I demand for more. I urge for attention.
Patience is running thin!
I never even looked away from the light in your eyes but you were watching my entire flesh burn and rot in the colours you gave me. Dead. When you left, all went dark for the light in your eyes were fires that burned too bright and couldn't last. It was then when I was standing all alone in the black hole you helped me create, the one that ****** away everything I loved, I realized that I was colourblind, that your touch and your words were bleach that sunk into my core, leaving me only in black and white.
~ part 2 ~ this is the second half of a two-piece poem, this is how the masterpiece ends.