He set me on fire then he kissed me
He leaned right in and kissed me
Right there in the flames
I still question whether it was him
I think back to it
I look for strings
I check the mirror
Then he let me go
He let me go like he should have when he met me
It stung to know I have less to offer him
but
You see, I’m no longer the type to be chained
Not to love, not to men, not to anything other than my dreams
And so yes, I cut my insides on his shards of glass
but he fingered my demons
As he watched the blood drip drip from between my thighs
-Sasch
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Published by Jayne
Jayne is a writer. On her free time she likes to be with her family hiking outdoors and traveling. New England is her home and place of birth. When asked what she wants to teach the world she replied, "Don't stop searching. Too many times, in my old life, I put my search aside for more 'important matters.' I didn't realize the thing I was searching for held what was most important; my soul purpose." Jayne works daily improving her craft and at times can get down on herself, but her favorite morning mantra is "It's a new day." and that's what she strives to start with.
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It was nasty-beautiful, great read. ( I still got the image in my head of that blood…)
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Blood isn’t for everyone.
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I just pictured the fingers inside her and then blood and then…. well I did faint but I´m really a tough man
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Hm I think it’s interesting you read it that way. Lol no need to convince me of your toughness. I think you commenting on this poem speaks volumes. 🙂
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I know…… 😉
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😂😂 well stick around I enjoy your company.
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I enjoys yours too Jayne
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