My lust swells.
The bitter pain erupts,
Running hot and frothy through my veins,
Plump with an overwhelming temptation
Of red, and blindness, and grinding teeth.
The throbbing expanse of greed in me
Punctures all my dignity,
So I'm left drowning in my madness, lust, and anguish.
The ache pulsates and grows beneath my skin,
Delighting my body—my bone marrow, too—
With a curious need that twists my sanity
And my sense of all that's good and red,
White and scalding, wet and true.
For the ecstasy of injury never lies,
Only bubbles, floods, and spills,
And tastes so perfect, like buttered toast in the morning:
Succulent, slick, and sickly sweet
Between our slippery forms.
We touch in the dark, and whisper of our hushed desires
That could shock some into illness.
I witness their gentle embraces, and I am sick—
Sick with glee (and silent jealousy).
But still I'll writhe to what I will, empowered by my loneliness,
My lips parted in a widely echoing scream of despair,
Hand in hand with explosive mirth,
Piercing and deafening in a celebratory song for this unwelcome passion.
Yes, my bosom will heave, and my hips will sway
At the ring of a knife against my flesh;
My neck shall twist in a gracious arch, my head thrown back,
If the threatening blade should reach my trembling thighs.
Sweet adrenaline pumps, my own heartbeat is maddening,
And I am wild beneath your chains, a willing beast,
Desperate for the raging fire I know is hidden beneath your tender skin,
Delicious skin—delectable and sugary like chocolate,
Like the sweet, mouthwatering pain we breathe.
I love the fingernails that break me,
My body's cries of protest,
The tainted sweat in which we bathe,
And our illustrious screams; oh, yes.
I am soaked in the magnificent bliss of agony,
Crushed and suffocated by it,
Engulfed in the divine pleasure it invokes.
I spasm joyfully when you glare.
Your menacing rage is as inviting to me as a loving gesture,
And your hand at my throat as exciting as a soft, teasing kiss.
I lap up your fury, taste it all,
Taste the essence of you dripping from your brow,
Taste the cruelty of your delightfully malevolent tongue.
I bleed for you, and long for you to make me bleed,
And long to make you bleed for me.
I'm red, burning with dire agitation for the salty aftertaste of our sweet love,
And of our death threats sighed gently against breathless, bruised, and bleeding mouths.
I'm sinking alone in my swirling lust,
Craving what only a madman should crave—
That deep, rich, scarlet gush,
And the tingling caress of cold, brutal indifference.
My soiled palms hide my face in shame, and I cry.
I'll have to change my sheets. We've stained them red.
The blood lust has me unsatisfied, and an outcast of passions.