These sleazy intentions
seem to kill more than those so-called "reported" serial orgasms.
To say,
-off the record-
that you give me both...
feels very disturbingly corrupt
yet thats not why you see me blushing.
can this burning betrayal flesh be helped or better prevented? probably not
my fight or flight instinct is to be the only suicidal bunny wet with desire, pressed up against the starving fox
wanting you to give me it all.
this is to be the root of my eternal damnation.
have all these urges
-that even you have yourself-
really be tainting the fragile lining of my soul using only my sinful secrets like a parasite?
or is the questioning of my own morality while you fuck me religiously the real sin?
How dare my mind even wonder while you posses me from the inside.
if i am to be damned for finding what you only long for then so be it,
mark me damned and chisel me into the future's mythology.
and on that day,
the divine powers from above decide to strike me down,
when they smight me,
plaguing me with some eternal curse
I will welcome all fates with a smile.
I found a love so powerful it made destiny insecure
resulting as my name serving as some cautionary tail of knowing ones place
forever blazing in the stories with danger and warning.
but even if the sight of me were to turn you to stone, making me your demise,
i will deliver your marble tomb each and every time.
I will always choose to make you hard-always.
Author's Notes/Comments:
a metaphor for... well ya'know.
not all myths are set in stone and some are made daily