You deepen the red of my blood,
pull it up from the marrow,
make it thrum in my chest
like itβs always been yours.
It twists under my skin,
curling through my veins, gnawing
at every hollow I thought was mine.
My ribs ache as if your fingers
have burrowed beneath them,
my lungs shudder as if your breath
has replaced my own.
I am undone, remade,
a body writhing in the echo of you.
I carry you in the red of my blood,
and it leaks and sings and burns,
and I would spill it all
without thought,
because it is yours,
because I am yours,
because I cannot be anything else.
πππππππππππ€
Pretty words for ugly things.
πππππππππππ€ 