Rough

 & the scratches are still there. Fingernail tattoos in my skin and I love it for no other reason then it hurts. Pain is good. Crude marks with no design, his lyrical rhyme dug into me permanently. So I wear as little as possible, show the world my scars, and shiver at their disgust. Not abuse. Hatred could never feel this erotic, and it rocks me to the core. The girls and grown women with hands interlaced with lovers and soulmates. But passion only comes from knowing what pain feels like. Tender kisses are lovely but I don't want him to hold me. Throw me up against the wall and carve his story into my body. Rough, because I can keep up. A brutal force of nature, hands everywhere, twin bite marks & bruises, and his legs with min. & the scratches are still there and I love it for no other reason then it's real.