Angel of Death

My angel waits for me
In the shadows,
Dressed in black.
Skin smooth and pale.
Hazel eyes staring,
Ready to change
In the blink of an eye.
They burn into my soul,
Sometimes with love,
Or furious with rage.
Doesn't make a difference.
My angel has me twisted
Around a slender finger,
And doesn't know it.

My angel tortures me.
My body, my mind.
Feeding off my thoughts
And my every desire.
Fulfilling some while
Contradicting others.
My angel doesn't know that
Whatever I am subjected to,
I love every damn second.
I can't get enough, be it
Harsh words, tight ropes,
Blades and scars, as much
As gentle, tender touches.
My angel has my heart.

My angel is a ghost.
There one moment,
Gone the next, leaving
Me wanting so much more.
Killing me through and
Through with each touch,
Each warm breath, each
Word uttered from those lips.
Draining my strength and
Determination, eating at
My will to live, leaving only
My want to please my angel.
I live and will die for my angel.
My angel of death.