Her fragile, soft fingers that stain me with black,
My weak stained structure, now unexplainably stronger.
I can see the words flowing from her moon faced mouth,
Tons of thoughts, she has.
She doesn't stop,
She continues the torture longer.
My strips and the pen nib being lovers,
It's all over me.
The ink to hide her emptiness, disguised as a cover,
The way her hand compliments me, it's a felony.
The aura of her dismay and dreams,
My hardback cover, we blend within the amends.
Each letter for her scream,
I'm in guilt, to hell I'm sent.
Go, go, a misunderstood dove,
Sits on me, begging for love.
Fall in a pit of fire,
She's run out of her pages and her desire.