ON CLOUD NINE (an original poem)
With soft screams of joy
under your sharp
cold blooded knifes.
In torture and in
silence I whisper
your name to the wind.
Under powers of lust
I chivvy myself
until I bleed out.
My skin becomes
warm and salty,
as I subtly cry.
While I thrust those
needles into myself
you laugh in the shadows.
As you embrace me,
I feel you inside
my rotten body.
So we confess
quietly, our guilty
insight to each other.
Beautiful poem congratulations @ serejandmyself
This poem made me feel tingles - the sign of a good poem in my eyes. Reading some more of your poems right now.
Thanks for the great compliment =)
This is awesome...love the image too :)
Glad you liked it pal!