Streach me across your cross.
Bleed me of all you seek.
Trust draining from my bones.
All your answers are laced in my blood,
running down my broken arms;
Filling your cup.
Eventually I will return my shape.
Truth wills till fill me,
More for you to take later.
I am your private addiction,
keep me secret, but never safe.
You once said you could kill me, but never mean to.
I never lived till I met you.
Even as you rack my body
and 'drain me dry as hay'
I know with out your pressence,
I would lack all form.
You challenge me,
Re-define my Truth.
While licking my wounds.
Bleed me Adonis, so I can be re-filled.
