Would I prefer
The slimy synopsis of narcissim
Or to be eaten alive by my own hatred?

To pick at my own skin
Untill I'm as red as 911
Or to be reborn with makeup every day?

Does  masochism have a sweeter taste?
To rival in my own distruction and bathe in selfhatred?
To drink it like your father's wine stash and to sigh happily as I sink down beneathe the surface and relax...
Sometimes I think I'm dying yet I feel so fervently alive...

Disease tastes so sweet under my teeth,
And I long
I LONG,
To have your skin beaneath my hands,
Your legs tangled with mine,
Lips drinking screams.

I wonder which of us longs deeper for this?
Which wants more deeply to dance before a mirror?
To collapse against each other in the halls of a hotel?
Or in the woods behind your home....

What is your dirtiest fantasy?
Pick your poison and I'll drink.