Pricks......

Blood rushes to the ends of my finger

As to the, whole of my body

Blood drips through the foreskin of my finger

As pain emerges

A good feeling has enter me

As the bitter warm blood falls from my lips onto the victim's body

Now I'm tempted to put my finger in my mouth

While looking deep into my victims eyes

He's turn on by the whole thing

I'm forced to demonstrate the movement of my finger to him

As the stem of the rose leaks into a puddle

Like a waterfall, falling into a river

Creating a beautiful bath for two

While exchanging the blood with my victim

A finger war occurs

On who can suck off the blood the fastest

The taste is up to your imagination

The feeling is a fantasy come true

My body slowly forms into a stem

And before you know it, I'm that rose

While my victim gets continuous pricks from my stem

The feeling is still there

My rose is red

And my stem is still green

When the rose dies

The pricks still stays alive