His hand on my throat
-
I supped at his seduction
Scant morsels
To feed my hunger
Ease the ache inside
-
His hand on my throat
-
Scooped out all of my insides
Offerings
I piled at his feet
Oh he wouldn’t stop me
-
His hand on my throat
-
His fingers squeezing tighter
On pulse points
Draining all colours
Till stars come to play
-
His hand on my throat
-
I bend my body to fit
In his grooves
His thumb in my mouth
Power spilling out
-
His hand on my throat
-
They say the all mighty gives
But he takes
Is there compromise?
Ecstasy or pain?
About the Creator
Kristen Haveman
A dabbler, a story teller.
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More stories from Kristen Haveman and writers in Poets and other communities.
Unofficial Challenge: What would you do if you were rich?
I love the kind of work I get to do in my career, but as I job search and browse apartments again due to another understaffed and unsustainable work environment that I did not intend to get into, my daydreams of better days consistently lean into the same question: What would I do if I didn't have to worry about my basic needs being met?
By Kay Husnick4 days ago in Writers
Comments (1)
The imagery is so vivid it almost feels like watching someone slowly lose themselves. It’s powerful writing. Do you usually write from personal emotion or pure imagination