• maleficent_ 24w

    Love , for you and from you
    tastes like champagne and
    stale kisses . And I have no choice but
    to put on the black dress that reeks of
    nightmares and memories and
    wear sharp red lipstick to make
    up for the lack of blood on my teeth
    that day , and saunter over to you
    with a stare that has all the warmth
    of a December night .

    The club chokes on hip hop and jazz
    and the tables have men , with shining
    wedding bands on their hands
    caressing the curves of someone
    their wives gossips about .

    I meet your gaze and find a void
    just identical to mine inside those
    eyes . The smile all bright
    but the stare all liquid shadows .

    We move against each other
    slick with sweat and the sickly
    stench of fake whisperings ,
    You trace the name of your lost
    love on my collarbones and I
    moan the syllables of a name too
    painful to remember , between your
    shoulders !
    We move together to the cliff , fall ,
    and surface back , only to again shove
    ourselves in the harsh kisses ,
    the kind that don't make your heart fuzzy
    but hold a promise to tear it further apart .
    Taking , not giving . Demanding .
    Everything and more !

    We pant against each other and
    you don't help me get dressed ,
    I stare at the bloody trails on your
    shoulders marking you and I know
    they will remind you of me tomorrow ,
    a black clothed nightmare , with
    no intention to form coherent thoughts .
    and you'll forget me after a couple hours .

    Love demands ties , and neither of us
    has any length of our rope left
    to offer .
    So I leave ; listening to the beat
    thumping out from the club , Radiohead breathes
    "You've changed the lock three times , he
    still comes reeling through the door !"

    - R

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