my heart sits by the door
waiting to be invited inside
she licks her wounds, pain and pleasure
swirling inside like a tyrant, a storm
this tempest that rages within the quiet
of her inner chambers
longingful darkness settles
as echoes whisper to her that she is lacking
that she is used up, that she is simple
he dipped his hand into her breast
his fingers moving, and dancing inside her
hate and pain, poisoning each beat and breath
confusioned mixture, an elixir of pleasure
tinging her outer limit with hate
i have watched this heart of mine for too long
suffering at the doorstep of my home
ive begged her to come inside
yet still she sits, waiting to be forgiven
for the pain she played as they groped innocence
from her giving fingers

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