You curve laboriously and fetus-like; a humbled Earthworm of this land, cry, beg, and mostly whimper the thoughts that strangle even the dust on your eyelids. Breathing is hard and volatile like cigarette smokes in gasoline; your heart turns into a volcano at your own risk. Do not move but stay euphoric like the rocks that barricade your small throat as morphine inside a cancerous body, remain silent and slowly shut the light. Little by little fire spits out from your delicate pores and travels above your pallid skin, enough to touch and gag you on a dreamy sailboat; afloat with nostalgic hysteria. Pins and needles kidnap you for a higher torture.
Faint and surmount. Exalt.
11:44 pm • 9 February 2012 • 3 notes
It’s like a favored secret sin. You confessed the ugly part but still you fondle the memory in broad daylight when no one can see. You rape your own savage thoughts of black and white everyday. Eventually you cry when they soon fleet into the light because you believed they’re yours to keep. Borrowed pain. Tell me how one taste after betrayal and spilled cum? Closed eyes shut deep in the dark perhaps. Lumpy throats hurt when it tries to swallow bitter pills and barbiturates can only lull you to eternity. Still your mango hibiscus scent towers my flesh as you announce from your wet lips how we do it everyday. A box of dark chocolates to allure me. I’m easy but never safe. I never know what is coming but your face is standing next to mine. Staring at empty dreams you fill my sores. The blame is on you.
8:29 pm • 5 February 2012 • 6 notes
I am an astronaut in pink glittered toe nails.
And you are the moon outside my window. Sitting lonely with anticipation. Naked with pulsating chest. You say not to fall in love. I say let me conquer you for a moment. Alone in the blackest crowd of shining stars, still the cum of your silver iridescence bathes me in sheer admiration and complete lust that I coyly fondle under my skin. Slid into me and feel the warmth. Lost in old wooden telescopes between two sticking tongues, I can see you surrender and shed your anonymity. I can only taste the aftermath of rum as you read my bitter prose inked on my wrist. There is no waiting on sad violet seashores. Our souls both famished for things we didn’t beg for. So we beg. I beg for you. You plead to stop. Please stay a little longer until the coming of dusk. This too shall pass. I see your body ready to partake but it’s your soul I have been writing a love song. This love made me a whore but I wantonly want to shed my clothes in front of your wonder which only cover bruises and female wishes. You made me feel clean again but I only love myself when I’m dirty with cum promises of lovers which eventually became strangers with a name. Rough scarred alcoves on your back. I find my way in the Milky Way, slowly with your sweet tasting fingers dipped in honey. When I came, that is when I finally made it to the Moon.
5:53 am • 4 February 2012 • 6 notes