Dark DoctorMature

Bright eyes,
shiny needles.
Dark behind,
his outline.
Looming over.
Your mouth:
blood, leather.
Restrained, caught.
He's bigger,
no, closer.
Hot breath.
Bared flesh.
Low lights.
It's coming,
the pain.

"I'm going to take your black heart
it's dead, rotting, you don't need it,
it beats, pumping discord through you,
putrid blood courses around you.
I'll save you,
let me burn your black heart."

The End

5 comments about this poem Feed