deepundergroundpoetry.com
its written on the walls
disgust stains my walls like wine on a white wedding gown
hidden behind shelves of empty bottles
as i drench myself in sweet acidic hymms of denial
the feelings of needles and thorns pretending to puncture my limbs
and purple bruises envelope my once virgin skin
caused by repetitive attempts to soothe the ache
is it sick that it excites me?
hidden behind shelves of empty bottles
as i drench myself in sweet acidic hymms of denial
the feelings of needles and thorns pretending to puncture my limbs
and purple bruises envelope my once virgin skin
caused by repetitive attempts to soothe the ache
is it sick that it excites me?
Published 11th May 2013
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