Let me sneak inside your body and discover El dorado. I want to feel your warmth, taste your spirit, dissolve into your cocoa butter skin. Let my lingering palm delight in your heartbeat and savor upon your multicolored mind. The vanilla aroma of the air that flows within your lungs shall nourish me. The sweet-scented syrup that drifts through you shall bathe me. I want to learn the language of your veins and make you weak as I whisper it upon your neck. Let me transform you into a waterfall, dripping wet from my loving. Let my soul slip into yours and create life.
Am I really that unusual if unusual people like me exist all around the world. When will I stop being unusual and accept my usual existence. When will my symmetries become symmetrical to those of everyone around me. All that I hope for is the unlikely realization that I have begun a revolution; A revolution that involves my unusual self realizing that I am not unusual which thankfully, remarkably and ultimately makes me unusual (because such absurd realizations rarely occur). Yet with this revelation remains the vile truth that somewhere down the line I shall become usual again. Well, At least I have begun the future, and I am not stuck in the past like something usual.
A knife has ploughed into my wrist, tearing my veins like little blood-red strings. A knife is maneuvering through my arteries slicing and dicing like a butcher. The tip of the blade has survived the journey to the other side of my wrist leaving a cavernous hole of flesh and mangled meat. The knife is not done, it wants more flesh. Blood is spurting onto the floor, Morphing into a scenic red painting. The blood looks like grape juice spilling out of my straw of an artery.
Did you think that the knife was the slaughterer? A hand is directing the knife. A hand is training the knife to carve out my mashed wrist into smuttier mesh. The fountain of blood spraying around the room is making me dizzy. My ruby eyes follow the faint pathway of the hand controlling the piercing blade; up the forearm, round the elbow, along the shoulder, till I can't look anymore. Why? I'd be glaring into my own ruby red eyes, wouldn't I?