Throw your hands
over those
h o l l o w
holes
and edge your toes closer to that
ticket to
heaven.
Stomach musles clench and drop
paralyze you and
fill you up with
d i s g u s t
that buttery feel to your insides
and all that
CRAVING
has you
SQUIRMING.
Lie
s t i l l
and hope it ends soon.
Stich the rip closed again
and try to stop
b
l
e
e
d
i
n
g
on the carpet,
that poppy-red spread,
the oily stench of desire,
that pull at the ceter of a
scarred chest.
It
HURTS
to keep it from
f l o w i n g
and
s t a i n i n g
your
life.
I want to keep you here...
in me...
Please tell me what you think
Comments
-
ceter......
haha its good little too over wordage sometimes, don't ask me where, just generally but good
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