Dinner and Some Woe

Disclaimer: This is completely fictionalized

Dinner and Some Woe

I arrive
dressed in good intentions
to find you
in a Satan dress,
your fiery desires
providing us with light,
like freshly lit candles,
casting shadows across your heart
and brightening what you call
your "important parts",
lying on the table,
two bloody breasts
waiting for someone
to suck the flavor from them.

The course is set
for a coarse evening,
your backhanded comments
already leaving
raw rashes
glowing on my cheeks.
I silently nod and smile,
trying to hide the falsehood
behind a forced laugh
so as to not seem impolite.
Blood drips from her chin
as she tares apart my heart
with sharpened teeth,
leaving nothing
but broken rib bones
and my vein attempts
to see the goodness in her.
She pulls some of  it
out from between her
decaying gums
(from all the deceit
she spews forth
no doubt)
playing with it like a string,
batting it back and forth
with her tender paws
only to unsheathe her claws,
ripping me a new one.

Having finished the meal,
she licks off the last drops
of blood,
blending in with her lips,
and prepares herself
to ravage the desert
that has been sitting
across the table
the whole meal,
a temptation quite within reach.

Despite remembering regrets,
my heartbeat enters hers,
two distinct drummers
trying furiously
to keep the beat
for the same disjointed tune,
unsynchronized and unsatisfying,
until she hastily takes control,
pushing my pounding tempo aside
to make room on the bed.

Sullenly,
she slips off my sore soul,
slinking away swiftly
without glancing back,
her scaly shins
and despondent sighs
rake against me
with equal force.
Rising slowly
from my cocoon of shameful desire,
I spread my arms
to feel reborn
as a broken man,
long scratches
running up and down my shoulders,
screaming for a drink,
thirsty for a sip of my ancestry.
I try to cry,
if only to feed him,
but she had sucked me dry
of all emotion.

Now I am just
a sorry sack
of good intentions
searching for someone
to make me more.