After work
I usually go home
to rest my body in a motionlessness.

I'm watching tv
and think how fortunate I am to not to be on the screen. And that this world
is a sad place to be, for you don't suffer yourself anymore,
and you don't suffer seeing others suffering,
doomed to emotionlessness of Twenty First Century.

After work
I'm watching ****. That is my way to bring my dead body to life,
like electric shock for someone who died.
Don't blame me for that.
We all have our own way to survive another day in "paradise".

I'm watching
bodies ******* bodies, and I forget for a while, that I am nobody,
and that body
is all what remained from soul,
and that *******
is all what remained from love.

And that all we've managed to save from the End
is naked certainty that there's no God left,
only us, only our bodies,
craving to be alive and copulate.

I hope that is what you wanted to hear.

This lighthearted word that makes you want to look up
to see the allure and intrigue that the sky holds

Every collection of soft, fluffy whiteness opens the door
to another portal for the imagination

They shift expand and disperse like most things in life
with a much faster pace

I watch as they gently meld into one another
Then fade into blue
the grandest magic show I have ever seen

And off on the horizon
this sumptuous mound
seems to grow from the core
of the planet

Reaching higher with more light and luminance than all the rest combined I watch as it coats the sky for as far as the eye can see

Wrapped in the glorious hues of the setting sun
in the midst of heaven
I see you

One day while searching the web
The little devil on my shoulder said
Why don't we watch **** instead

The little Angel was missing that day
So what was I to say
But okay

As I sat there in the computer screen glow
I clicked some links but they were slow
I clicked and clicked, but it just wouldn't go

It had froze
Figures that's how my life flows
But then they all at one time started to roll

All I had wanted to do was watch a show
With some **'s and men with part that grow
But I had unleashed a ******* pornado

Why am I still ******* to you?
I hate that you're beautiful.
that I'm too weak to delete this picture.
That the most intimate thing left of you
is your body.
After four years of living out every fantasy.
A home,
baby,
making dinner,
fighting,
making up,
waking up next to you.
All i'm left with
is this carnal desire to possess you again
like you used to belong to me.
And isn't that the worst thing.
Isn't that the whole reason I left in the first place.
Because we both knew that nobody belongs to anyone.
Yet after all my grieving
All my lovers between now and then.
This is the memory I cherrish most.
This last chance to steal you.
When we were already breaking We thought it might save us.
How foolish we were.
See in the picture you can tell we were breaking.
Your eyes begging to forget.
Just like I beg to forget you.

The first time I saw you walk into a room
I deleted all the naked photographs of my ex lover in that instant.
Just in case you checked.
Just in case I flirted with you.

No girl has earned that same memory.

It belongs to you.
See, memories you can claim.
But not people.

The time you refused to accept
blankets between us and the cold ground
of our tent would keep us warmer
than piling them all on top of us.
That we can keep.
That mistake belongs to us.

The night we took this photograph.
The curvature of your hips.
Your arms hung dead like the maronette strings snapped that day.

That's a memory That i've captured.
See, even though you're gone and I don't have you.
I have this picture.

Why is it that i can go every day of my life loving people for who they are.
Seeing their dreams and past lives.

But with you
Blood.
I see this carnal need to devour you
like some delicacy.
Some favorite dish.

I hate that you're still beautiful.
I hate that you turn me into this monster.

One who sees girl as flesh not human.
Bones as shield not structure.

And it's only you.
This one thing i hate.
Who I need to ****.
Who I need to possess again.

I'm so glad I left you.
Glad I killed the monster.
But I can't delete this picture.

Every lonely night That I would cry alone and miss you, I don't.
I crave you instead.
Claw into your flesh
pull out a still regretably beating heart.

I feed it to this beast.
That demands you dehumanized.
pray I never see you in real life again.
fear that may be the last day I'm human.

**** ruined you.
It ruined us.

I thought it was me.
My fault.
I needed to change.

I did my hair, my make up.
I danced for you.
I dressed in lingerie and costumes but it was never enough.
I couldn't live up to lust.

Then I learned it wasn't me.
I was your love for *******.

Slowly this diminished my love, my respect for you.
Worst of all it destroyed me, and all my self confidence I had in my self.

I convinced myself,
*** isn't everything but everything else had seemed right.
Maybe we can learn together connecting emotion with action.

Conclusion ended up being your lack of desire for *** and intimacy with me. Could it be my fault?

**** was always just one click away from any fantasy.
I would confront you and express my concerns.
Trying to make the two of us work.

You only got better at hiding it.
*** became a struggle.
Neither of us could reach that ******.
All you could do was blame me.
Then I knew....
You had the case of the prisoners' hand.

Could I wear more makeup?
What about white tipped nails?
Maybe I needed breast implants.

Now you want role play and ***** talks?
If that wasn't enough could I consider *******?

I tried to wrap all this around my head.
Thinking maybe these things would work.
We could become a couple again.

You could never find satisfaction.
So there could be no compromise.
Soon I lost my interest in ***.

It never seemed to bother with you.
I grew angry towards you.
Things began to come violent.

You pushed me twisting my arms and wrist.
Then threw me on the hardwood floor.
As my wrist began to bruise and swell.

How I missed being loved and cared for.
How I desired beautiful and emotional just plain naked ***.

All I feel....is lying here depressed.

I'd rather stay in bed then walk into you.
Every time I see you I take a deep breath, Turn around, and walk straight to bed and begin to cry again.

I ask myself...
Why did I stay this long?
Why did I try so hard to fix something that was never there?

For 6 years.
I believed you loved me.
When in reality you were in love with ****.

P* erception of perfection you peep through,
Pasty pallid skin, polished and hairless too.

O rifices overloaded with objects inserted,
Onus on organs contorted and inverted.

R ated R for restricted but,
Revered in every racing, raving heart.

N o escape, never real, a never-ending reel,
Note now how it is the act and the squeal, never the feel.



I t is its own doom, on a breakfast platter, glittering,

S erving your imagination an unforgettable, unfulfilable fantasy.



A lways present to build a prison cell and still calls you free.



T rue to itself but a lie nevertheless,

R uinous rapture you have there, rupturing a future,

A way from the light to higher heights of depravity fly,

P ursue a mirage, put on its chains now.


Did you fall too?
I was hoping you'd give me a hand.