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Rated: E · Poetry · Romance/Love · #2144986
She wants to forget the things that have happened in this blue room.
Sometimes I think I ought to paint the walls a different colour.
A plain and untainted beige, like a spiral woven basket waiting to be filled.
A velvet ménage à trois wrapped in ribbons and sin falling from an apple tree and straight into her mouth.
Pale white like a heart shaped box you contain me in, sparkling at the surface and pale to the core, clouding over your horizons.
You crowed me over, begging at my feet.
In your hands you clutchmine like stairway railings.
When that does not work you try again, this time behind me.
Sneaking up, thick tree like arms fester around my waist and throat, choking me and embracing as though I am your greatest desire.
Tighter grows your grip on me, I attempt to run from your grasp into a field of grass.
Panting calmly, I resist my senses all the way to the other side, only to find it repeats the same meadow.
Lilies grow out my ears and now I am the most beautiful creature you have ever laid eyes upon.
Trapped, like a fallen angel in a cage desperately crawling out.
No matter where I go, you find me and pull me back.
Your intentions as pure as your affection for me.
If I am ever to be yours again, you must first find the version of yourself you can become, not the version you have come to be.
What have I done to you my darling?
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