Don’t read this one, Mom…

Hellfire, frightful desire;

The night is my confidant,

And you are my delicious muse.

Your wicked stare burns through me like the lick of a whip,

As whispers of ecstacy from the grave carry my name.

I’ll taunt your fantasies and haunt your dreams,

Turning your nightmares into my dark pleasure playground.

Your hands upon my skin,

Your mouth ready to devour me whole;

Feast upon my soul like a ravenous demon,

And drag me under,

Deep into our own private abyss.

Ⓒ2022 by Twisted Libra

PS: Mom, I told you not to read this. Says it right there in the title.

Until next time…