I feel you pulsing, quick and calm. I hear you calling my name and I answer, moaning in pain and pleasure. I’ve heard the voices; telling me you’ve used me just to fill your hopeless voids. And it’s okay because my pain pleases both of our senses. Your nails scrape at my wrists and the blood pouring down only replenishes the hatred that was buried beneath my skin. I need room to breathe and your heart pounding against my own overpowers my will to get up and leave it all. Your lips upon my flesh make me quiver with anticipation. Your salient fangs right beside my vena jugularis forces me to be cry out- nervousness and anxiousness filtering through. I’m only human to feel these emotions and your death attempts after the pleasure will be effortless. Do you feel the same pain that I do…? I wish you could.

By DeathKat

I'm 17, full of teenage angst, and if labels are loved... I'm "gothic". It hurts so good to be loathed. Talk to me some time. Love and Hope, Kat.