I Wouldn't Know, But I Can Feel

Roses are red.

Violets are blue. 

This heart is a mess with stricken skies.

If the devil was an angel I'd be home.

Her thunder as vast as a lighting strike.

Her terror quakes.

Her screams fill the silence with an eerie conscious.

Her eyes deceive her by envisioning death.

A vice grip around your mind, his arms around you is all you see.

Softly you breathe.

You smell his cologne.

You can feel his lips touch your stomach. 

The stubble rubbing the innocent flesh.

You lie still.

You can still see his blue boxers.

He takes you by the hips and removes your last bit of protection.

 

Do you still see it every time you close your eyes?

A head full of hair.

Those eyes.

And the maniacal laughter.

It's all over now.

He has removed himself.

Can you still feel him?

The pain that creeps into your stomach, slowly spreading into every limb until it becomes a paralyzing fear.

Before he leaves he tells you he loves you. 

Does he thank you?

Does he kiss you goodbye on the mouth?

Is it his hand caressing your body as you try and scrub away the sweet demise?

You kissed his lips but, all you could taste was his mouth. 

A vile combination if tobacco, drugs and beer.

Vodka is your thing.

That burning as it makes it way down feels deserved.

You see the flame and inhale, a sweet passion envelops ever sense.

 

A flower can only be so pure.

An angel can only fly so far.