Walk a mile

No Escape

Smudges of lavender and amethyst
bloom beneath white knuckled fingers,
gripping,
grasping.

Smooth, sensual strokes
tease and torment
before sharp nails dig into soft flesh,
streaks of crimson oozing.

Panicked heartbeats
flutter like caged bats,
beating dark wings
against fleshy walls.

No escape.

Lank hair lies limp
in long, elegant fingers,
yanking,
tugging.

Discarded strands
lie abandoned
across bare shoulders.

Cold, clammy fingers
clasp at naked ankles,
wrenching,
twisting.

No escape.

Screams
of tortured souls
lie reflected
in desolate eyes.

Dark, mocking silence
floods the room.

No escape.


Free verse. Written 27 May 2015.

Second place in "Love Shouldn't Hurt Poetry Contest"  (May 2015).