His lips are a nightmare
I’ve been known to survive
As they sinfully trace the back
Of my neck, and try to revive
The tide of emotions and
The bridges we built through
To walk over regrets we thought
Were just a few.
His hands clasp my wrist
But I’m too complacent to moan,
With agony that slowly erodes
Another piece of my soul.
His touch is nauseating but
I seem to no more
Care about being
His drug and back door.
I give in to slumber, that
I know will find me soon.
So I let his lips wander
Along my ocean
Over my moon.


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