Wine and Roses

I feel his hot breath on my neck
it smells sweet like
wine and roses
He kisses the back of my neck
and runs his long fingers
through my hair
sending chills down my spine
He whispers words to me
that I do not understand
My pulse races
my temperature rises
His strong hands grip my arms
He slices my throat
with one razor sharp fingernail
He places his cold lips to my neck
and slowly drains away my lifeblood
I smile as the darkness comes.

Poetry by Heather Walther