martyred masochism

from your lips on my cheek
to your nails in my back
to the knife in my gut
i will stay.

if you knew it would end
with my blood on your hands;
will we trace back the war
to today?

i would follow
or push
or love
or scream
or come
or fall
or die

for this moment
with you
in your arms
on your mouth:
to be loved
and fucked up
and destroyed.

when the smiles on our lips turn to teeth in your shoulder
and the tears in our eyes will run red.
i know it today
that i'll scream it tomorow
for the promise of pain
i will stay.