She laid inside a warm, dark hole of which was empty but comfortable. Of course, she'd made herself comfortable in that aching pit that dripped of lost hopes and hurt.
She'd foraged her way between the stiff cavern of my beating chest and scratched between my lungs, wrangling them as she continued in search.
Her well polished nails tore bloody tissue from my insides as she picked piece after piece from that swollen, beating heart.
Burrowing between that sensitive flesh, she crawled inside a small pothole, surely caused by another.
She'd settled into that small crater, bringing her knees to her chest as the soft walls constricted her.
A snarl ripped from her lipstick slathered lips, her nails ripping flesh once more as she continued to bury herself deeper into that hole.
As the hole expanded, she became more and more satisfied, till there was a gaping wound with her smirking inside.