Death of a Rose whispering behind my back,
draggin your shotgun behind you,
scraping and bumping along the gravel,
no trespassing it said,
so of course i ignored it,
and now after our hateful embrace,
are leaving blood stains in our
new chase scene.
Death of a Rose come to me warm lips,
spread wide your contention,
disease and pestilent ridge of scars
stab in a decidely up and down motion,
rotting before your god

loving the living dead.
Death of a Rose little blue book of numbers,
who shall i dismember today,
ah....i think i like this one,
smells vaguely like a tree,

i love pressing the sore points,
does this make me evil?
damn right it does, and loving every single typed word of it.
misstree happy schadenfreuding, darling.

would it be evil of me
to so thorougly enjoy
bringing out your cruelty?
a dangerous habit, that,
training a dog to attack
by provoking it and
offering it throat,
but so little bothers to bleed me,
when a willing participant wanders by,
am i to let him escape without
Death of a Rose lets burn little pieces of each other as offerings for our bitter wine.

i stride as mountains with scapels for feet,
needles for forests,
finely honed razors for kissing,
inhaling without exhaling every odour,
pain in eternity is my calling,

and i'm making a killing at it.
misstree my breath quickens, head starting the separation of exquisite dizziness, primal scents and dangerous darknesses, tastes rare and vital... but oh, the monsters in those forests, once they hunger, nothing is safe... it takes so much to sate them, and innocent prey only drives them harder in the hunt for worthy flesh... do not wake them, let them sleep, oh please let them sleep... i will burn with you and bleed with you... i will be your jezabel and i will provide you with scarlet rivers... i will grin with my hands at your throat, and gasp as you snap my bones... but quietly... quietly... let them sleep... 031113
Death of a Rose well laid traps are the best in my hands,
just the brittle brown flakes of
sadism passing.

"show me the spike"

totally giving oneself over to one emotion, especially in an arguement,
is dangerous if you are fighting an opponent that is able to be calm while she/he slices your fragile stomach open, readying it for dafremens carnal forecasting.

with all my blades at your disposal m'lady.
Doar i never wanted to be anybodys anything at all. 031113
whitechocolatewalrus searching upon the ground.
invisible stains cover everything.
my blood here, there
all over
no escape.
the stained ground, the stained mind
what have i done?
Death of a Rose you have been left as just another causal throw away of violence.
the scarlet splatters of vicera and gore are the haunting reminders of this destruction,

this is now the time to run,
because this will haunt you forever,
visions of the knife in the dark.
Death of Prose should have been casual instead of causal.

bad death
Death of a Rose Ah....I miss the slash and bend of the joints.

The senses that heightened the long nails upon each other.

it has been too long for me, to remember my place, to enjoy the growls and thrusting.

It has been too long.

what's it to you?
who go