Tattoo my breast with stars

The full moon is still beautiful when cold bites at
my cheeks. It cares not, it sees not, it hears not the
lonely sigh of a passing train. But it finds me in the
dark and illuminates my despondent reverie.
The thoughts of a broken woman were not
meant to be seen, only kept.

When the night is young and sleep is clever prey,
my dreams are merely a wasteland where beauty
goes to die. I am no hunter and the moon was
not meant to shine in such places. The waste
of my tears, stripping away the luster of elegance
that is natural on a woman.

I come from a dangerous place, a place where the
sun is cool and distant, and the ghost image is a burden
to my swollen eyes. My heart is used, but unlike
my purse, it is never empty. If I sold it for chips of gold
I might survive another day. What is the price of heartache?

Ascendant is a man who claims what others could not.
I've bedded monsters, challenged my fate, and
wandered alone to cradle my pain. I am born
of wickedness and I crave the heat of those rough hands
and ferine teeth you so rudely force upon my flesh.
Only a savage can capture my heart; if you can take it,
It's yours.