...Much more like
An unkept rose,
Wild with all
Its thorns
And secrets;
I am sure
He bled
Everywhere he
Touched me,
For i felt it run 
Down my back,
Hot and heavy
Where his lust
Should have been,
I am a whore
In his bed,
Touched
Only 
By his 
Words

Come,
Let me 
Show you
How hard 
My bitterness
Can fuck