Pain Game.

oh my god. He wants to hurt me..
& i can almost
taste. his Piss.
Running down my throat
& the salty sweat of
the pad of flesh/Under his thumb
his hand over
my face
the blood from my
bite.

i am scared. He knows.
He doesn't shoot blanks.
Neither do i.

cyanotic, blue lipped flight/ fight
copper conduit.

Sadist, you.

Disassembling, disheveled dreamwalker, i.

Every hallway i run.
Turns into a wall.

i eat my tears of anticipation. One by one.

trance-masochist. Yes.