This is your legacy.
This is your lineage:

Romance her into a corner -
smooth white thighs pressed
against rough black walls.
Slip in and out
practically unnoticed,
soak up that
opiate induced love song.

She lusts for you -
under the cover of inebriation
and you need her for your sobriety.
Latch onto
peach scented hair,
breathe her life
into your deflated lungs.

In out in out in in in -
she wants to be violated
by your toxicity.

She wants to be defiled
by your grappling hands.

You think you're using her
but you're just another
notch on her belt
and she lets you think
you have the power -
you, in all your phallic _incapacity.

You're just a pretty
little play thing
hanging from her iv drip...

08/27/2003

Posted on 08/27/2003
Copyright © 2024 Karen Michelle