Poison.
A poison sweeter than honey,
warmer than your afternoon cup of tea.
It leaves you believing that it’s enough to thaw your soul; for a moment,
or perhaps moments.
But it instead it leaves you
with a lasting sting.
An Irresistible fiery red
that’ll ignite you; from the inside out.
Almost like the forbidden apple;
it calls out to you, draws you in.
It feeds on your hunger; hunger for something you shouldn’t have.
A poison too sweet,
it’ll leave you thirsty,
with the need of something
to neutralize it,
to flood it down your throat.
A poison that would mercifully weaken you,
but despite that,
it is the only one you’re willing to take.
Love.
To be in love.
An indescribable feeling.
Warm, and settled.
Yet accompanied by
a peaceful rush.
It’s distinctive.
A feeling like no other.
It’s love. Simply love.
It’s intimate, and
overwhelming.
It swallows you whole.
Devours you.
Runs through you.
You feel it inside you.
With every feeling part in you.
It makes you feel alive.
It brings life;
and it intensifies its flavor.
It feels endless,
as it flows through you.
As it warms your blood;
as its warmth is pumped,
intensely;
engraving all that love
deep within your soul.
Trust
I felt your cold hands on my face as you blindfolded me.
I felt your sultry breath on my neck as you stood so close behind me.
Don't move.
Don't speak.
Just stand.
And give yourself to me.
You instructed.
"You can trust me" you spoke softly.
I felt your cold fingers lingering on my back as you leisurely unzipped my dress
Your satisfaction as my black dress fell onto the ground,
and the hairs on my body stood erect is undeniable.
I can feel your heart beat rapidly with desire,
ready to explode right out of your chest
"You can trust me" you spoke softly.
I felt an unfamiliar brush on my collarbone,
moist and cold.
The scent of paint filled the air
I could barely grasp my breath with the air so thick.
But I knew that I was ready.
Ready to take what you give.
Ready to give myself to you.
My senses heightened,
ready to succumb to every stroke of paint
you smear onto my exposed body.
With my skin as your canvas,
you painted.
Yes, I'm blindfolded, but I saw with every curve,
every line,
and every stroke you ran across your canvas.
I saw a painting so vivid;
a painting that gave rise to all my senses.
I glimpsed the sun creeping through our window,
assuring me that with you,
every morning is a bright morning.
I embraced the aroma of freshly brewed coffee,
with a hint of you.
I savored the sweet raspberries on your soft lips,
the raspberries you knew I loved,
the ones you handpicked from our backyard.
I sensed your breath as you whispered your indulging words into my ear.
I caught your husky voice calling out my name.
With every gentle stroke,
the painting became more vibrant,
more alive.
I saw a painting that is
breathtaking,
heart stopping.
It started with a passionate streak.
So gracefully, you coated the surface of my skin
with paint that I can easily wash away.
But you dug in deeper and deeper.
Your brush turned into a sharp knife.
A knife that you used
to carve in the painting you wanted me to see.
I saw a painting that is
breathtaking,
heart stopping.
How could it not be,
when my blood was the paint you needed
to carve your lies onto my body.
"You can trust me" you spoke softly.
I did.
And I wish I hadn't.