my flesh is the canvas, the mattress the frame

i happily let
you pull the blade
along my flesh
enjoying the way
the blood wells up
as you carve
your initials
through muscle
unconcerned with
hollow bones or
dessicated organs
as you complete
a masterpiece in
pain across my
shivering body

the burn marks left
upon the mattress
my lasting contribution
to the world of art
a mishmash of scars
telling the stories
never able to escape
my sewn together lips
just hazel flashes
in depressive intent
writhing seductively
in bile and blood
slowly soaking down
to rusted springs
buried in heartfelt
declarations lost
in pleasured moans

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