Nerves sharpened on razorblades
Teeth clenched against the bitterness of steel
Oh, how Porpyria's lover has grown
Tired of the chains
So sultrily
Ripped asunder
A turgid writhing blunder
To choke
To pull
To coax
So sweetly
Until ecstasy
Forcibly has its way
Deepening like bruises
Contused with all profusion
Love is no illusion but a stain
To bear the marks of cupid
And savor their indulgence
There is no greater pleasure to be had
Than pain
One smitten little finger
Seduced by aching adoration
Privation is the aphrodisiac of gods
Bound by self-loathing and
Swiftly failing abstinence
To break the bones
One assumes to have
Broken the habits...
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