July 29, 2017.
i made a vulture love me
He is the vulture that haunts your lungs.
He makes you breathless and feel at ease.
He soaks up your last words with his tongue.
You think you're happy, but you're dying.
You ask him what your sorrow's taste is.
He says it's passion fruit and spiced rum.
I taste like a hurricane's last kiss.
You better believe I left him numb.
I made a vulture crave his demise.
I made him see that life isn't free.
It took his love to strip his own hide.
It took self destruction to love me.
Poetry by aidan haskel
Read 1162 times
Written on 2017-07-30 at 01:12
Tags Love  Toxic  Pain
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