deepundergroundpoetry.com
A Memory
Nails gently scraping my scalp as
Hands gathering my hair up into a single firm grip
The other hand looping my metal belt around my throat
Their smirk deepening as they pull me closer
Such a perfect moment where their lips touch mine
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 3
reading list entries 0
comments 4
reads 587
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.