






the scratches you gave me
are healing
a pity, really.
my pale skin looked so good
striped red with marks
left by desperate lust.
they were so pretty,
each little line.
now they’re forming scabs
which will leave long white scars.
you know, it doesn’t sting
when you tear at my flesh
it feels brand new
if it isn’t too forward
i would love to ask
if you’d leave a few more.
i will, of course, understand
if you’d rather not.
i promise it’s more important
that i can see you
and be your friend
maybe it’s the tragic lesbian in me
but there’s something i’ve always loved
about wanting to fuck my friends