Itch/Drag/Stitch

Does it ever itch....
the sting- does it ever screech... outloud?
do you ever set it free...
the razor's sharp edge...
does it ever sink in...too deep?
is there such a thing as pain?

your sleeve is ugly
to subject to such beauty

so why don't you make a switch
don't worry, I won't tell mama, I won't be a snitch...
I sit here and listen to your plea
my undying devotion I will pledge,
prowl towards me...inertia creep
I will not let ur plight go in vain.

this cord that binds us
fasten to my neck and drag
this could be our umbilical vein
with which you enrich me
with which you slay me

don't appear dumbfounded
I will never forsake this time and place
I enjoy the pain, this abysmal tourment within...
I love the treacherous paseos to ecstacy
I adore this devilish love

so I will withstand this razor
she embellishes me...
my alter ego
my sturdy pillar...
she will cure ...hypnotize the itch
then "they" will make a stitch

suture

and all will be right as rain...
and we will do it all over again.

-krysty