My Personal Succubus

Sometimes I fall short of myself. But you're always waiting; your only real purpose to catch me when I can't catch myself. We've known we were meant for each other, together in this parastic relationship. To me you've been classy and succulent from the beginning, while to others you are an aquired taste. You are my personal succubus, the only mistress who has ever redeemed me from distress. You steal me away from this harsh reality, and elevate me to a place where surreal thoughts are welcomed and embraced.
And though you save me from feeling the pain of my open wounds, the burning gashes that are my punishment of my crime; being alive. Your swift, brisk redemption is riddled by selfish intentions. I know it is true that you do not hold me close with kindess and warmth for me, but so that I am close enough for your fangs to find my neck. I am your sustenance.
But I'm ok with this. So, I'll see you then. For now you'll wait with your ethereal arms outstretched, hoping for the day that my happiness is burnt alive. But don't worry, it won't be for long.

3.23.06
My Personal Succubus