Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Tim looked over at Stacey, she looked so lovely in her pretty new negligee against the generic vanilla interior of the motel room, he felt his heart wince as he took a deep breath.
Stacey was searching for the answer in the popcorn ceiling, what was wrong? This was there first time; it should have been as magic as there courtship had been thus far. There had always been some underlying feeling with other men that told her to stay reserved, but not with Tim. She sat up and looked at him, “am I not pretty enough? Talk to me baby. I’ll do anything you want, you know that.”
As if a bell went off in his head he reached over and smeared her lipstick across her right cheek and spit in her face, with his fingers he pulled her mascara down her cheeks like black tears. As he was ripping her negligee he looked into her face and said, “I love you, but I can’t do pretty.”
At first total shock, total shock at how wet she had become so quickly, it was flowing. She wanted him to flow, as the word pretty left his mouth she punched him in the nose, the blood began to flow.
They looked at each other with excitement and recognition, finally after only whispering such things in hidden dreams, flesh! And so it began.
Hours later, beaten, bruised, bloody, defiled, and content, they lay in each others arms exhausted, sleeping like babies. The air smelt of debasement, the room looked like murder. They lived happily ever after.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Sitting on the edge of a chair looking down a hole
Looking for the piece of my heart
that seems to be missing
Scraping up some sludge around the edges of the hole with my thumbnail.
I roll it between my fingers into a ball and then into a plug of sorts.
I open my shirt and dig into my chest and stick my finger into my heart, seems the same size.
I jam the sludge cork in, perhaps I'll feel whole again, maybe I won't.
Or nothings missing and my expectations are to high and now I have a sludge cork in my chest with no purpose at all.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Friday, September 11, 2009
if you were candy
you would be my favorite flavor
i want to taste you
i want you to lick me
if I were a lion tamer
you would be the lioness
i want to dominate
i want you to tear me apart
if you were a disease
i would be afflicted
i want to breath you deep
i want to fuck you deep
if i could actually write
this might be a little better
i very much want to hold your hand
and kiss you on a blanket in central park.