Your touch draws scarlet lines,
On my china white skin,
And complements this blood,
With painted purple-blue bruises,
Hurt, I run from you,
I hide, desolate and afraid,
We both know I could never conjure,
The strength to stay away,
Hence, I crawl - unwillingly - back to your arms,
I lock myself in your dark cages once more,
I'm crying,
But my tears won't ease this pain