tides in his throat
but the ropes are tighter.
blood rushes
but his veins lie dry.
fingers close
but breaths drawn closer,
and he's still scared
of teeth
on skin.
hitching
and his body burning
fire where his cheek bones lie
shape of lips
a beautiful contrast
to the painful room
thoughts hang from.
mirror stares
and realisation
of arms
not tighter
than the wires
grazing open flesh.
breaking thunder
doesn't crush bones
but cuts
not skin
but hanging ropes
and tides roll up
to tears they vanish
down the crook
of one bruised neck.
golden hands
and gold leaf stains
and heaven
can't get closer
than this.
◌༉‧
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tied up. | ??
الشعر» ᴄᴏɴᴄʀᴇᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇʟᴛᴇᴅ ɢᴀᴢᴇs; ʜᴇ ʜᴜʀᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀsᴛᴀɴᴅ. « - ?? completed [✓]
