is this love?

i ask myself,

as your coarse and calloused hands 

spread open my bronze thighs

fingertips dancing 

the waltz

up along my skin

is this love?

i ask myself,

rough kisses pelted 

along my throat

love bites 

decorating my body

moans and the repetition of

"oh fuck"

and

"you're so tight"

rumbling in my ears

is this love?

i ask myself, 

the only sound

resonating within the room:

skin slapping against skin

and heavy grunts

a rhythm of

in and out

in and out

in and out

is this love?

i ask myself,

tears that leaked

from your fucking beautiful

crystalline blue eyes

traced along irritated 

fresh cuts that appear

as if they have been painted

on my thighs and torso

is this love?

i ask myself,

maybe.

once upon a time

she fell in love with a boy

whose lips tasted like the asphalt

he got burnt out on

chestnut ringlets

overdosed on overpriced

cologne

they both knew it wouldn't last

but two lost souls

stuck together like glue

until one of them deteriorated

insecurity

festering beneath

blemished skin

comparable to

salt water

overflowing

my nostrils

and eyelids

attempting

to swim

in this bottomless

chasm

labeled

"disappointment"

a word

I've never grown

accustomed to

even though

she tore

my eardrums

apart

with her

repetitive usage

a word

I've never grown

accustomed to

even though

he spat it down

my throat

as his fingertips

scorched my cheeks

a word

I've never grown

accustomed to

even though

I've carved it

into my bones

carrying it

everywhere

I go

a simple

reminder

I've ceased my

futile attempts

at breathing

the ocean

begins gushing into

my scars

failure weighing

my body down

to the sea floor

ready to drown

death comes in all shapes and sizes

and I'm sorry mom

I'm really really sorry

the clouds are mourning us

and the rain doesn't feel the same anymore.

the house is destructive;

anxiety slicing into the room

like a razor blade kissing skin.

life really isn't fair,

and my prayers always start with,

"Why?"

and the tears have become a necessity,

without them,

something is wrong,

and I'm sorry mom

I'm really really sorry.

Cocking his head to one side, he observed her sluggish and weary movements. Bruises piled up on her arms and thighs, a purple and blue blanket over her ivory skin. Groans tumbled from her dry lips, echoing and ricocheting along the walls. The noises vacating her mouth were unpleasant, like nails against a chalkboard, but each time she writhed in pain, a euphoric sensation surged through his blood.

Amusement vibrated within his bones as he gleefully watched her struggle against the chains.

Taking steady, calculated steps towards her, he delicately ran his fingernails along the rusted chains. A sob ripped through the back of her throat as he repeated this motion over and over.

"P-please..." Broken stuttering poured out from her bloodied lips. "W-why.. are you..." Her words were suddenly cut short, as she began to vomit blood.

His hazel eyes darted down to the tiled floor, a vibrant red covering up any nearby white slates. Upper lip curling, he turned away, deliberately yanking on the chains as he moved. In between spurts of blood dripping from her mouth, her high-pitched weeping flooded away any other noise in the room.

"Christ!" The man finally spoke, animosity and irritation thundering in his tone. "Not even for one second– one fucking second, you can't shut your whore mouth?"

A small whimper resonated from her side of the room, but all crying had ceased.

Her mouth was shut, but blood began to gurgle from the corner of her lips, dribbling down her pallid cheeks.

"Much better." He gravelly muttered, gazing at her through shrewd and critical eyes.

Crouching down onto the heals of his shoes while still grasping onto the chains, he yanked her towards him with all of his force.

Anguished screeching tore through the rooms silence as her body was flung towards him.

"What the fuck did I say, you fucking slut?" The man roared, taking a fistful of her matted hair. "If you don't keep your pretty little mouth shut, I'll slit your throat and leave you to bleed." Digging into his coat pocket, he pulled out a dirty dagger, waving it before her widened eyes. "Don't fucking doubt me, bitch."

Continuing to keep a grip on her greasy hair, he tugged her even closer, until her eyes were directly aligned with his. Tears glistened over her amber irises, and a mixture of sweat and blood trickled down her forehead. As he absorbed all of her physical traits, a faint smile began to cross over his lips.

"I would be doing the world a justice, killing someone as ugly as you."

Silence bled through the walls as they stared at each other.

He continued, "'Cause, you know, life and death just repeat, over and over and over. You're ugly in this life and a hot piece of ass in the next. You should be thanking me for this opportunity I'm giving you."

The man paused, taking in all of her details again. Blood had stopped oozing from her lips, but the burgundy color had stained most of her face and clothes. Her eyes were dry now, irises full of anticipation.

"Why?" The one word eased smoothly from her lips, no hesitation underneath her inquiring tone. Anger flowed throughout his being at the sound of her voice, but answered her anyways.

Still grasping onto the dagger, he slid it straight across her neck. "Death is a gift to those plagued by life."

i. I wasn't set to the default

of the environment around me

ii. I don't abide by the rules

iii. I've never given authority an ounce of my respect

iv. I continuously commit the same sins

v. I don't allow anyone a chance of redemption

vi. I avoid what's good for me

vii. I hate myself

I grew up with a boy named Alyx

whose eyes were tinged

with copper and hazel hues

and lips painted upwards

in constant limbo between

a smirk and a smile

overbearingly smug

acting as if he always

knew more than me

I grew up with a boy named Alyx

whose words

severed any hospitality

between us

continuous quarrels and

disagreements

over trivial concerns

arrogant and pompous

when it came to his opinion

I grew up with a boy named Alyx

whose tears etched

across my bones

engraving all of his secrets

into the veins that

coursed through my limbs

a silent agreement

between us

formed that night

I grew up with a boy named Alyx

whose fingertips

plucked a perfect tune

every time we came in

contact with each other

his smirk trailed along my ribcage

like a butterfly's touch

lust and hatred

the only concepts we knew

I grew up with a boy named Alyx

whose laughter

left a bruise on my hips

an ache vibrating

in my chest

every time

his name was uttered

he left a cum stain

on my heart

her lips tasted like coconut

sickly sweet

yet

I couldn't bring myself

to pull away

and

my hands rippled down her hips

fingertips gliding across her skin

like ocean waves

drifting along lazily

I wanted to memorize

every sensation

every thought

every detail

the way she looked with the light coating her golden eyes

as she lifted her hand to

stroke my cheek

how she arched her back

just the way I liked it

as she moved away from me

a coy smirk

painted across her mouth

I dug my nails into her curves

not able to handle

the possibility of stopping

biting down on her lower lip

causing it to bleed

but I knew she didn't mind

she leaned in cautiously

like a lioness hunting her prey

the same smirk on her lips

inching closer to me

so fucking close

I felt as if we melted together

and suddenly

I woke up