Show me submission
I will show you something
to gag on,
*****.

Show me submission
I will show you something
to swallow,
*****.

Show me submission
I will show you something
to *** on,
****.

Give me submission.
Give me submission.
Give me submission.

I will give you a place
where bruises feel like caresses
where danger feels like safety
where fear feels like release
where lust feels like love
where disgrace feels like an embrace
where every name and threat of
******
is stretched out
the same as your
long legs
*** cheeks
open mouth
dripping hive
aching heart.

I am wrapping my open mouth around your flesh
teeth are brittle
but skin gives quicker.

How wide could you spread?

Spread you out like a butterfly,
mascara running down across my fingers
you desperately grasp for air through.

Your words
cannot escape through my palm,
but by the time I remove it,
you will no longer be capable
of forming them.

You won't even remember your own ******* name
by the time I'm done with you.

Just like a dream that seems a lifetime,
is often only a few seconds in real-time,
you passed before my mind and heart
making eight years seem like an instant.

Now I am
waking
wondering
if you were real.

Now I am
trying to get up from
the bed that we made
the bed that you sleep on now
rub your sleep out of my eyes
see again
the things that are real.

You were railroad track marks
the spots you placed
up and down like pinhole cigarette stains
all across my breaking heart.

You were an escape artist act
up in the sky
like memories of sharp objects
drawn
across our skin.

They say people cut themselves
to feel some control,
but they are wrong.
We opened skin
to make sure
we were still human.

There are names for girls like you:
pretty, pure, and more...

But I know ones that are liked the best,
you ***** ******* *****.

I was thinking about
your phantom body pressed warmly cool against me,

and I thought of...

tasting your harmony breath,
tracing fingertips across your vapour soft belly skin,
tickling rings around the small of your horizon bending small-of-back, grasping your silk as *** ***,
swallowing your sweet sticky blooming sugar flower.

and then...

*******
              grabbing
                              choking
                                            spanking
                                                             scratching
                                                                            moaning
                                                             slapping
                                                   biting
                                   pinching
                screaming
*******

a cleansing storm

                       all
   over
             you.

I don't write for you.
I don't write for even myself.
I write for simply no reason
and so very much less.