it felt like feathers,
like feathers lightly grazing against my skin.
my lips had never felt a touch so divine,
so painfully soft.
smiling against his weapon,
his lips,
i fell harder.
Alas,
my lips were only a canvas
that he painted with colourful shades,
of his lust.
YOU ARE READING
Scarred Poetry
Random//ˈskä . rd // A lingering sign of damage or injury, either mental or physical
