5h
my blood is warm
when it spills
drip—ping
down
my
thighs
my heart longs
to speak words,
secrets of
the flesh
but instead
she just weeps
and pounds against
my ribs, her cage
and my stomach
is wet with her tears
when it spills
drip—ping
down
my
thighs
my heart longs
to speak words,
secrets of
the flesh
but instead
she just weeps
and pounds against
my ribs, her cage
and my stomach
is wet with her tears
i always have felt that i feel emotions that i will never be able to confess properly, that no one could possibly understand what i feel. it feels like hands around my neck, that thought.
