Roxanne 

Wanting to put blade to paper and rip open something red,

Tearing up a pillar of cream, watching the Crimson silk ripple across the sheets,

Inhale the vanilla honey sweat salt iron- this hurt tastes so sweet

Coppery like bloody dreams- nightmares

Singing in screams – plump mouth gasping for nirvana, arms grappling for hell

Pulling petal after petal off the white rose – dripping something wet and deep, oozing for something more

Let the rouge dress drip down you

Lips silent, eyes begging

‘Shut the fuck up’

Gripping, grasping, – breathy

Blue lips, cold skin.

Playing this symphony out of tune but it sounds like heaven -this feels godly, but-

I look down and the devil holds my hands and I hold the knife.

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