SADOMASOCHISM
Here I stand, cheating the promise of tomorrow.
The scars on my hands are my final memories of you.
The cross you held yourself against is the same cross that fell and crushed your simplistic innocence.
Come up, visit my world.
Take a journey on the outside.
The grass is always dry yet it rains all day.
The night skies are clear and the stars are reflected in tears.
The moon haunts the epic blackness and the sun is nothing but a word, an invisible word.
We sit on a cushion mesmerized by the havoc our jungle has dished upon us.
Wishing for more pains, self inflicted pain.
You tease yourself.
Your eyes cry.
Your tears are of blood.
bAcK tO InDeX pAgE
Email: summerland@hotmail.com
