I
am a silent masturbator.
I don't moan,
or groan,
or whisper;
I set to work,
and as quickly as it begins, it is over -
as if it never happened at all:
A tree falling in an empty forest.
but yesterday
When we talked outside
and the midday sun
hit your eyes,
Covering those glossy dots of paint in a thin layer of honey,
and warming a gentle smile,
I fell in love with you.
Tonight,
when I touched myself,
I was still silent.
but I couldn't help but think of you;
of burying myself
Into that beautiful body of yours,
of holding you
So close you begin to wonder if I will ever let go,
of filling you
With some sticky, liquid testament to this unreciprocated love;
and as I ******
I lose myself
and Your name slips my lips.
The silence is broken.
I don't know if it can be fixed.
Sep 18, 2022
Sep 18, 2022 at 9:01 AM UTC
Baby boy!
Pretty little thing,
your flesh
is So divine!
Oh yeah,
that's right;
I like to watch it -
i like to watch your flesh:
subcutaneous fat
padding tender hips
Shifting on a creaky framework of bones.
So beautiful,
so divine,
so delicious -
I will have you for my own, Straight Boy,
I will eat you,
piece
by
Piece.
First,
your liver,
then,
your Brain,
and finally,
I will devour your confused little heart;
I will bite through the muscle;
and you will watch on
as Blood that pumped
through a brain that pushed away thoughts of hesitant homoeroticism,
and a ***** that rose
For me - INCUBUS!!! -
dribbles down my chin...
lifeless!
Aug 10, 2022
Aug 10, 2022 at 10:21 PM UTC
i feel so very tired
i think my body is beginning to rot
from the inside out
something is wrong
Mar 30, 2022
Mar 30, 2022 at 11:06 PM UTC
i think there's something wrong with me
i feel depressed and tired of interaction
but i dont want to go out with a ***** of a candle,
unnoticed.
i want my suicide to be my final piece of work
i want my absence to be art
Mar 30, 2022
Mar 30, 2022 at 3:08 AM UTC
We start as one.
We grow from the same wretched earth,
but eventually,
we begin to abandon the physiological Pangea
in which all our bodies are blurred at the edges,
And we grow independent.
Eventually, though,
each and every one of us
becomes tired.
We lay down to rest,
and our dura mater begins to decompose,
leaving our brain to slip free,
our consciousness to traverse the planes we left behind at birth.
Mar 17, 2022
Mar 17, 2022 at 1:59 AM UTC
FILTHY DIRT
nestling between my toes
AND EATING ME
while I sit and wait
FOR YOU, YOU ************
to come back in your usual manner
AND BEAT ME UP
and watch me cry warm,
SALTY ******* TEARS.
...
ARGH!
Okay.
Oct 17, 2021
Oct 17, 2021 at 10:06 AM UTC
The beast ambles,
Slowly
Against the face of the cold,
Encroaching
Winter.
He pauses,
milky eyes turned upwards,
two pools of white
in which a pale,
smoldering
sky can be seen, reflected
like narcissist unto photo behind glassy frame.
He turns back,
Away from the cold,
And the howling, ashen sky
Towards home,
And orchard of writhing, wild apple.
Inside, it is warm.
He will wait out the winter,
perched in patched armchair,
ambling the slender halls,
wearing thin the lacquer,
on what may have once been
Glossy,
Youthful,
timber floor -
Growing fat off the fruit of autumn.
Jul 28, 2021
Jul 28, 2021 at 10:05 PM UTC
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑐𝑘.
I know,
But does my sickness
Eat me from the inside?
Does it,
Define me?
...
Yes.
Very much.
What are you going to do about it?
May 12, 2021
May 12, 2021 at 10:19 PM UTC
Beneath the sallow,
At break of the night
He waits,
The moonlight dusted upon his pale
Fickle
Skin
Periodically, of course
For no longer than a second
Does the mark of silvery light
Linger in one place,
Most of it pushed aside
By the gambolling tears of green
Wept by the weathered
Old
Sallow’s skeleton grown up into the sky.
May 11, 2021
May 11, 2021 at 6:02 PM UTC
what would it be like
to press a gun to my head?
to have silvery cold bring forth
flashes of my life-
but what life would I remember?
what hate-filled, spite-ridden hours would present themselves?
what mediocrity would I be met with?
and why would I not pull the trigger?
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 2:04 AM UTC