[to be named]

kneeling on carpet that crunches
and picking apart My cuticles,
wondering how much longer

tick

because My jaw is sore
and you taste like metal,
cheap motel soap,
and everything daddy
told Me to stay away from

tick

so you better warn Me
because there is nothing
in this scummy bathroom
that I want to ingest less
than your sour orgasm

boom




Poetry by Katherinee x
Read 566 times
Written on 2013-08-26 at 00:12

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Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Grimly effective. Well done.
2013-09-01