You Aren't What I Am

Dripping with shame
Dipped in disdain
I am the fabric
And you are a stain

You are the rope
In my hanging tree
Fishing for dead men
To soil my leaves

Felt as if without touch
A love, soft like lips brush
You're a blood-curdling scream
But I am the hush

9/3/2013
Nakomis