I'm an art, made of pain.

I was floating in the flames of torture.
It was burning my heart blue.
He pulled me closer to his bare chest
Run a whiplash over me, from my belly
To my toe, made me twitch in trepidation, His warmth was cooling my fears.

I can't wait to have his hands over me.
I missed his lips, the way they move on me.
I missed his violent kisses all over me.
Hold me tight, make me feel hard.
I wanna moan your name, aloud.
Ignite the passion, between our warm bodies.

Chase me down the streets.
Make love to me through the eyes.
Push me to the door, to the wall,
While eyes stare at me, I gasp.
Make me wanna long for you more.
Run your fingers through my hair,

Like I'm art, made of pain.
Melancholy hit her. The past haunted her.
She dipped her feelings in red ink.
And poured it out through the quill.
Each word danced to the tune of sadness.
Turning the white parchment blue.

It happened at such a pace, it was breaking me to pieces. I was panting. I was breathless.
The sheets, creased on the futon.
Just like her life, ruffled, a storm that
Left decades ago, but the agony still persists. Soreness of the heartbreak.