Missing the spark of your flash in the pan
The blinding seering light most quick
Not the way I'd behave when things would go amiss
I miss the fog of war
The flashing flay
And the feeling of victory
That most ignorant bliss
The flay is what I miss
Have you ever peeled an orange?
Felt the satisfaction as the smooth husk glides
Right off, falls away in a rush
Opening to the sweet flesh inside
Taking pleasure in the simple things
Those smooth and flawless actions
So why should flaying men be different?
Why the cruel infractions?
You say you scream from pain
But I hear the rejoicing
Hidden in your shrieks
As I flay the skin right off your face
Revealing the ****** smile
Concealed beneath your cheeks
Ah, the rush, the thrill
Peeling you like a fallen fruit
Elation takes me to new heights
As I joyfully flay your skin suit
My concentration becomes delight
As I open you up to new views
The rapturous beauty
Your muscles, tendons, bones, and sinews
I asked for unusual poem prompts.
I received this:
"The sweet feeling of flaying skin off muscle."
Blood chilling. But here's my best shot.
I am not feeling okay
The thoughts that were at bay
Are starting to weigh
Heavy on my mind
Heavy on my heart.
My thoughts start to sway
Guiding me astray
Pieces of me
Start to fall away
I am starting to breakaway;
My mind frays
As my thoughts start to play,
my hands start to pray
And my words start to blow away
the people I hold so dear.
I will defray
But for now I am going to splay
my ache into words.
— The End —