Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Submit




picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/Submit-177516848


I ‘m being strangled by the hand around my throat,
my body crushed against the rough brick wall,
until motion is reduced to just the panic in my eyes
and my chest is nearly bursting, as the turning point arise.
Yet the hold does not let go, every muscle remains tense
‘til you see the panic turn to craving that which you dispense.
It’s a calculated choice I make to step into the whirl,
even knowing that it is the end, next stop – the underworld.



5 comments:

  1. whew...dark cravings....there comes a point when it becomes what is wanted...
    this made me shiver thinking of getting to that point though...

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  2. Brave girl going here!
    . . . . but enthralling!

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  3. Wow, you are indeed a great artist with words.

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  4. Sometimes that swirl seems inviting but is dangerous. Sometimes, I don't care.

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  5. We take our pleasures where they find us and find our pleasures where they take us.

    ReplyDelete