Creature who breaths only the air it makes,
a tantric affair is yours to savour with delight,
in a pain that courses through the thing you love,
the idol of your affections a tender toy,
be it plush or plastic, metal or gem,
it's your greatest pitty and only sin,
a star crossed love that breaks and repairs,
inside a universe of your own insecurities,
what is love? is it your hands against my skin?
is it the voice I taste inside my soul, drinking,
eating you as I weep for less, and force more,
down my throat like a fearful glutton,
today this creature dies, today I break it,
I drench it in blood, stab it with my pen,
today it is gone and tomorrow it is gone,
the next day and the next day it is forever,
Dead.
Author notes
Not sure what to say.
Comments
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I know how you feel Miss Amy love. I know where this comes from, and I know what pain you had to go through to get it. I am here, right here with you feeling ths pin, and I am glad you've physically killed this beast inside your head if that makes sense. Maybe we would all do well to remember love isnt hurtful like this. Love doesn't cause bruises, sores, or make you feel like you're the one who deserves it.
I miss you Miss Amy, and I wish you a happy Christmas. One free of pain and self doubt.
Love always,
Jin
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Thank you Jin I think I'll be writing some more now.
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