Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
May 2015
i hate you and it is almost
******;; the way that i want to
destroy you from the ground up,
flay your flesh from your bones and
watch your blood coagulate in the hot summer sun it is
cold
where your body lays
buried beneath mimosa pudica so preciously planted
i love the way your hardened body becomes pliant
to the touch
my warm blooded fingertips pressing into your sides
and if i had a **** i'd destroy your body
more thoroughly
**** your spitslick opening
more roughly than with the use of a finger
or three
which opening am i referring to
the one i create
with a knife and a flick of the wrist
right between your ghostrib and the meat of your stomach
i find it to be
most pleasant to the ear
that wet moistmaking slop of a cavern
and i want to put my tongue to it
so carefully
tasting your inner screams and whats left of your soul
stuck inside that rotting meat it cries
for help and i am your mother
rich in my love and rich in my hatred for the uncouth young
way your body wraps around my quivering flesh
my indecisive muscle
ambivalently traverses the planes of your abdominals
and my fingers follow, stained black with
your bile
i love the texture of your
insides
smooth against my calloused
touch
your faded whimpers echo in my ear and i am
ecstatic
i've clipped your wings
and you are my pet now
my gorgeous gangrene wild animal
to keep and to care for
and i love you
i am your mother and i love you
faunlette
Written by
faunlette
564
   Ignatius Hosiana
Please log in to view and add comments on poems