Embracing the feeling of the devil’s fingertips
tracing a homicidal outline on my sensitive skin,
singing the flesh off the bone;
A guttural noise escapes
the bottom of my throat,
I welcome the pain;
find pleasure in the torture, even.
No questions or doubt;
They say home is where you belong,
and I have come prepared with luggage.
Expectant of the torment
I’ve been sentenced;
Warnings are unnecessary;
a precaution in the contract from the King.
This is where I’m destined to fall.
Check out my book, Penny Poetry, available on Amazon!
Marysa Writes 