Your love,
devoted and passionate,
yet proprietorial.
Your alluring fingers trekked down my arm,
tearing my skin in halves,
like the my confidant pal on my wrist.
Your faithful kisses all over me,
reminding me of the possession;
your spirit.
Your dilating pupils,
stone-cold and quiet like the winter,
cutting off the vessels of my heart.
Clinging on me seductively,
and yet pernicious,
its your love;
Like a rose, Love blossoms into something that looks intriguing and attractive. However, like a rose, the thorns also ****** you.