It is written in my skin.
Tattooed into my veins.
The ink pumping through my blood stream aching for what could have been
But yet you persist to bang upon a pickaxe into my head- what were you hoping to attain?
Secrets.
Secrets are better left undiscovered
But when you peel the skintight shield off that I burnt into my skin I will realize- you will realize- you can no longer be my lover.
You will leave me wounded,
Why does the table turn when I’m already preparing for battle?
I will come to the understanding that you are no cupid.
Just know,
You can confine your secrets in me; I swear I will not tattle.
Our lives heaved and pitted onto the stand front and center crystal and confusing as if we were on a game show.
Just know,
You prosper off of my confidence a bottom feeder lowest of the low, You have not damaged me yet-
You will not damage me.
I am so strong my armor is a diversion,
My pink lips a cover for fangs sharp enough to kill you
I can withstand evils ten times greater than menstrual flow.
But you,
Your armor wore away years ago,
You are nothing anymore.
You are the undead sacrifice to satins angels.
And by the time you find another woman vicious enough to love you
Time will have whittled you down to your core and reveal your rotting heart
Then won’t you have wished that your brain controlled your actions instead of your head?
