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Stockholm Syndrome

Stockholm Syndrome
By MochaBabey on 04/23/2009
Viewed: 437
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Half passed 2
Dying of an eternal bliss
that has settled upon
my restless soul
cooing at the very though
of blazing that flame
that went so cold
for what seems like ages.
My feverish temperature
is rising at the scale
wailing at the feel
of being touched
His hands oozing down my back
and cuddling my sorrowed face
like I''m his baby.
Nestled within his warmth.
I can''t let go.
I can''t save myself from this
whirlpool of intimacy and completion
that sucks me in everytime
I smell his skin
and breath his breath
and drown within those lustrous blue gates.
I can''t scream and be freed
from these ever loving binds.
It''s suicide if I uttered a word.
Why would I want to?
I''m stuck.
And I relish at the thought of my
vivacious kidnapping.
Nothing satiates my hunger more.
Than one lethal dose
of him.

-Guns, are for cowards. Pens, are for me. ~~OTEP-

© By MochaBabey On 4/23/2009 4:33:13 PM
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