I feel your dark, wet whispers on my skin.
I am waiting for you to jump me, bite me and poison me like the spider.
Crave my flash like the spider craves a fly, I'll rip out her wings, run over the table little girl, try to escape only to fail in the end, try to escape only to surrender.
Oh, you will surrender.
But for the love of God, don't talk to me unless it's for divorce. I hate your voice, but crave your touch.
Let me feel your skin one more time,
what have we lost, and, what is left?
A little child with no parents, just bones.
I will bury you under the mistakes of yesterday, but I will burn your remains in the face off my past wrath.
I can kill you on spot, but oh, don't talk to me, just touch me,
make me feel, for you are the only one to make me feel, deep deep down in my tainted, wretched heart make me feel divine again.
Question this in every possible way please.