Your lips upon my skin;a kiss from ever after.
Bruised blooms upon my throat;observed without my laughter.
My skin pure as white cocaine, my lips as sweet as E.
My body the perfect escape-for you, not for me.
Behind my dark mascara, two orbs empty as death.
Between my two firm breasts, lungs filled with cigarette breath.
Within my tempting mouth, my oesophagus lays torn
From bulimic episodes with which I was born.
My taut and narrow waist-the last and best surprise.
Your three week-old-seed, fermented between my thighs.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 8:05am on Nov 25, 2024 via server WEBX2.