I put the gun up to my face
Sweet gunpowder kisses on my tongue...
blistering sex on my fingertips.
Sweet seduction of my mind.
Fucking me up.
Fucking me up beyond all recognition.
Piss whipping my cortex like my last lover's cat-o-nine.
Painting my walls a fresh new color for spring.
The voices in my head tell me to put my body in strange holes. Stranger holes. Tell me there's no God but ecstasy.
I'm inclined to agree as I lick sweet nectar, tangy jam
Thigh flavored mindfuck.
Tell me I'm good.
Tell me I'm bad.
Spit on my face... rub my nose in what I did wrong.
Just don't tell me you love me.
Pins in my nipples... screws in my lovehandles... papercuts on my tongue... all with the cool detachment of burning trash.
Of burying victims.
Of driving those black stilletos into my irreplaceables.
Tell me how you really feel.
Drown me in hate.
Tear the flesh from my bones in long strips... like curly fries of skin. Fill the wounds with ink and salt to leave a mark of your craftsmanship.
Detest me.
Despise me.
Bind me.
Use me.
Fuck me.
Loathe me.
Hate me.
So long as you own me.
I put the gun up to my face...
and for one brief moment-
you let me taste God.