My skin is a chalkboard yet your nails find their way to resonate sounds through my throat. What was once a clean canvas is now struck by an act of art and crime of pleasure. A chest full of "I love you's"  formed by kisses as rough as barbed wire and bruises carved by means of passion. Black and blue and red and purple, green, yellow; a rainbow of lust. Your hands around my neck is my favorite noose, a chokehold of fingertips I'll never escape the grasp of.