The Day You Cut Me Wide Open

The day you cut me wide open, I bled tears from a hideous face And pure prisoned blood from my sealed benevolent cocoon. I was not as pitiable as pathetic purple onions, So you wouldn't weep for me. The ruffled white sheets mourned with still ripples, For I was a cruel painter, who have painted her With the colour of doom, Red. You troubled my secret sacred place with your ritual. You were the herbalist who reared the fatal ********** With the beak of a razor. And then, You pierced me, After idiocies of incantations. I was gullible, Because incantations are meant to be charmingly convincing. And, perhaps, It was much more than your words that lured me, So I endured the pain, Because pleasure is greater than pain, The act of two, greater than one in disdain. This once I was lain, Was the day you cut me wide open.