deepundergroundpoetry.com
VICTIM
Late at night she crawls into my bed
Whispered sweet nothings are all that’s said.
A flame-haired little plaything
With a penchant for pain.
Softened lips and sharpened claws
Like the slap of cat’s paws.
Whimpered sighs turn to shrieks
With the rising of her peaks.
Sink her talons into my skin
To indulge her sins.
Who am I if not the first
To feel pleasure over hurt?
She gives me life to the grave
And I am her willing slave.
Who is the monster and who the prey?
Will I even live to see another day?
Oh, baby, please just make it hurt
For I’m about to burst.
Show me your true wickedness
With a demonic hiss.
Show me the pleasures of Sin
When you make me your victim.
Whispered sweet nothings are all that’s said.
A flame-haired little plaything
With a penchant for pain.
Softened lips and sharpened claws
Like the slap of cat’s paws.
Whimpered sighs turn to shrieks
With the rising of her peaks.
Sink her talons into my skin
To indulge her sins.
Who am I if not the first
To feel pleasure over hurt?
She gives me life to the grave
And I am her willing slave.
Who is the monster and who the prey?
Will I even live to see another day?
Oh, baby, please just make it hurt
For I’m about to burst.
Show me your true wickedness
With a demonic hiss.
Show me the pleasures of Sin
When you make me your victim.
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