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submission to desperation

I am a corpse
butterflied open to reveal to you
the most precious of precious.
I am a moth
broken in your path.
I am kneeled before you in perfect poise
as your blade rests at the nape of my neck.
My hands are clasped, cradling
the fragile whole of my heart--
it is warm red glass
and bitter wine
it is spilling over curled fingers
it is blood running into my eyes
it is red lipstick left on you.
I am the flower you pull petals from.
I am prostrate in devotion.
I have given myself to you, like this.
Just Please Don't Love Anyone More Than You Love Me.

14 Nov 07

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For me, this is mostly an invitation for someone to seek needed therapy
 — poetbill

Oh, my gosh, where did this come from?  This is the type of thing that convinces me that it's not about evolution's blind force.  Devotion, submission, a little necrophilia or dominance/submission issues but still, excellent writing.
 — Isabelle5

Thanks Isabelle, I definitely think there is more to it than evolutionary compulsion. This wasn't supposed to come out so morbid, but it's that feeling you get towards someone you love when you feel them slipping away from you.
 — Rynne

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