thoughts around an outline. circling a drain. the presence of you only pointed towards an emptiness that has long since been there. you make me aware of a hunger that's been pushed back. dangling. front of me. how am i expected to ignore it? no such thing as better natures.
anticipation. worn it down to the bone. every day another offering. quiet prayer made with both hands clasped around your absence. wanting is a slow starvation. stubborn thing. you. how am i meant to believe i was ever built for a world that didn't have you in it?
she brings it to her own mouth. decisively biting down. a testament to. i have effaced him to find my own. you're going to be the one to witness it. ive opened it for you. now take it.
"did you miss me too?" cooing, hmm. feeling edges, canines nipping against skin. pushing against. pressing. more, more, more of it. i offer me. devotions in warmth as it flows. taste what is remade, taste what has awakened. fixes of a high we both pursue.
sandwiched in between life and death in the mere confines of the trunk of a car. love, the way you do it makes worlds out of snow globes, and you're shaking me around. ships impossibly rammed inside a glass bottle, apologizing for how long it took to be nestled to you.
"sorry about the mess," her voice is shaky, more breath than sound. hands slick with blood, old and new, pulling at you. a uniform red. "and must we really meet again this way?" giggle of a maniac. hysterics. the weight of what she's done sets in as deep as his face is sunken.
dripping over her wrists, sleeves. so does her tears down her cheek. chest heaving up and down. it is only your name that she can muster. shock and awe.
forehead leaning into yours. hands weak and losing strength as the rock tips to the side.
frozen look in her eye, seemingly detached from herself at present. eyes tracking rigidly. cold, deadpanned demeanor towards the first movement guided by your hands. squelching of caved in head and brain matter brings her back to where she is. lenses focused.
breathing heavy into the crook of your neck, breath hot. sharp. nicotine against your freezing skin. her teeth drags over your heartbeat.
“again,” tongue tracing a warm line of blood up your jaw. “show me. the exact moment he stopped belonging to himself and made him ours.”
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