There are ghosts next door.
Zombies on my couch.
I want to lose control, forget everything and leave this graveyard of memories.
I let you put me in a vice in hopes that your control will mold me into a different person.
Your mouth and fingers sinking into me making my skin burn with the things I’ve denied myself in an attempt at freedom. But in this moment, I feel released from the grip of the dead.
Bruises begin to snake up my thighs. When I feel your hands in my hair pulling hard and our hips pressing even harder I let the physical pain and thrill replace the sickness in my stomach and head. My neck feels like it might break in half, but I don't care at all. I surrender to your arms pulling me into you deeper and losing my mind beneath you. Losing control.
I force my limbs to stop shaking and welcome the raking of your teeth to the parts of me you haven’t already inflicted.
When you release my wrists from the mattress we roll into each other in shapes that don’t fit and I pace in my mind wondering if the creatures of the dead have left me. But when you say my name, I realize I’ve been in these arms before and this familiarity leaves me with regrets I may never forgive myself for. The dead are everywhere.
Zombies on my couch.
I want to lose control, forget everything and leave this graveyard of memories.
I let you put me in a vice in hopes that your control will mold me into a different person.
Your mouth and fingers sinking into me making my skin burn with the things I’ve denied myself in an attempt at freedom. But in this moment, I feel released from the grip of the dead.
Bruises begin to snake up my thighs. When I feel your hands in my hair pulling hard and our hips pressing even harder I let the physical pain and thrill replace the sickness in my stomach and head. My neck feels like it might break in half, but I don't care at all. I surrender to your arms pulling me into you deeper and losing my mind beneath you. Losing control.
I force my limbs to stop shaking and welcome the raking of your teeth to the parts of me you haven’t already inflicted.
When you release my wrists from the mattress we roll into each other in shapes that don’t fit and I pace in my mind wondering if the creatures of the dead have left me. But when you say my name, I realize I’ve been in these arms before and this familiarity leaves me with regrets I may never forgive myself for. The dead are everywhere.
This is haunting.
ReplyDeleteDeep, dark, terrifying.
We can never forget.
<3
I enjoyed writing this. A lesson that i'm always learning is that there are no quick fixes, that's what this was about for me. Thanks so much for reading!
ReplyDelete