Muse

It's a taint
Sitting alone in the dark
I see the dead
I see the promise of my destruction
My blood as it turns black and curdles.

He stands by my bed
Cutting his palm with his teeth
Drips red onto my stomach
Waits for me to take up my pen.

The stubble on his cheeks scratches my neck as he breathes in my ear
Rests his hands on my shoulders
His sweat cooling on my skin.

I stare at the wall
Bite my lip and wait for the words to come
Dreading their arrival
Needing them to make myself whole.

Fingernails draw blood from my spine
The pain inspiring me.

Desperation shudders my breath
The panic of apprehension clawing gashes in my throat.

He begins to whisper
A blur of image
Heady exileration
A sting of ink on my tongue.

He rakes his nails over my ribs and growls
Sudden violence turning my body hot
Making me hungry for a taste of flesh
For the immortality of a deathly sickness.

My body hits the wall
Blurs my words
Distorts them until they twist and howl.

I feel his palm over my heart
His breath on my lips
The excited pulse underneath his skin.

Our joining is wicked
An appocolypse for my soul
But I am alive
I am real.