The room is painted green; a soft green, so subtle that it almost isn’t green. Everything about this room is subtle. As if it isn’t even there. There’s all of the necessary furniture. A dresser, filled with neatly folded jeans and t-shirts and every sock has a match. There’s a small desk, laden with paper and pens and notes and every item we just carelessly toss there because they have no proper place. There’s a bedside table, with a lamp, an alarm clock, a pair of useless reading glasses that neither of us ever need. There’s a bed, a large bed, maybe a queen sized, I’ve never noticed. The room is quite full, but everything is where it should be. There is no tension.

I sit beside the bedroom door. The paint on the frame is starting to chip and I want to peel it off. I want to slowly scrape my fingernails down it, watch it slip to the floor in little white sheets. The same way I want to rip the carpet up from its edges, the sheets of the bed, my skin from my body. Slowly, tantalizing, with great care, leaving a perfectly intact shell, as if nothing has changed and everything has changed all at once.

The seconds tick by, my heartrate leaving them in the dust, while the dust in the room is visible only by the beams of light streaming so cleanly through the gap in the curtain. I don’t dare look at the clock. It’ll only make the time slow further, a dull whisper, unheard beneath my racing thoughts.

My knees are sore and my legs are cramping, there is no draft in the room. I always endeavour to hear footsteps, but it’s just the foundation shifting beneath my tiny, kneeling frame. I think a lot when I’m in this position. I think about the past, avoid the present, and allow myself the briefest glimpse into the time that follows. Everything is calm, all noise is dulled. Cars passing on the street, speeding along to wherever they’re going, a siren in the distance, maybe there’s a bird chirping or a dog barking. They fall upon deaf ears. I allow myself the simple pleasure of relishing in the feeling of air in my lungs. Slowly and serenely, in and out, it’s the only way.

My internal monologue was louder than I thought, it took me by surprise when the door opened and he stood before me. I glanced up, quickly, in shock, before averting my eyes and dropping my chin. Just like that, the atmosphere changed. The room, subtle as ever, fell away from me. The dust molecules, held, suspended in the air by the palpable anticipation that comes with him. I focus on my breathing again and I feel his eyes on the top of my head, down my arms to my skyward palms resting on my thighs. I feel my ******* harden as the heat from his gaze reaches them. My breathing hitches slightly and he inhales so softly I can hear the words before they’ve been spoken.

“Little one.” A chill runs from my neck to the base of my spine. He reaches down to stroke my hair gently, instinctively, I shift towards his hand. He pulls it away, “stay still.” His voice is stern, but not hard, “and breathe.” I release the breath I didn’t know I was holding and shift back into position. He moves past me and I don’t dare to let my eyes follow. I stare at the floor, which is still in fact there, despite how vast this subtle room feels around me.

He removes his tie, his watch, and I hear him deposit them atop the desk. I know these things without seeing them, I know him without seeing him. His presence is a feeling, an electric current I feel run through every strand of hair, every eyelash, every single joint in my body. He approaches me from behind, with purpose he gathers my hair into his hand and fastens an elastic band around it, exposing the sides of my face, the back of my neck, allowing him to see my nervous swallowing and the breaths that hitch in my throat. He pulls my ponytail gently causing my head to tilt back and my eyes to lock on his.

I can feel him reading me, gauging where I am inside my own head. Eye contact restrictions were never a rule I had a problem with, especially with him. I feel almost guilty looking into his eyes; they give nothing away, like two book ends neatly holding everything in place. I can see myself reflected in them, thoughts and emotions fliting rapidly, back and forth; I turn my eyes towards the wall. Seeing nothing reflected back at me in the pale green paint.

“Look at me.” My eyes are back on his before he’s finished speaking. It’s incredible, the control this man has over my body. Like a second nature, just this visceral reaction to comply, to allow him complete control. We remain staring at one another for what feels like hours. His eyes boring into mine is another thing that affects the speed and passage of time, only in an entirely different way. In this place, this moment, every nerve ending in my body is on fire, like becoming paralyzed and injected with adrenaline all at once.

He releases my hair and moves around me, my eyes never leaving his. He crouches in front of me, “how are you feeling, little one?” My insides light up further with his use of my name, “Fine, Sir, thank you.” He strokes my face gently and I make a mental note to stay perfectly still. He stands up and makes his way to the bedside table, opening the drawer he produces a black leather collar. I glance at his back out the corner of my eye, and a pang of nervous excitement courses through me. Standing behind me again, he fastens the collar around my neck, tight enough to remind me that it’s there, and exactly who put it there.
He reaches down, wraps his fingers around it and pulls me to my feet. Dragging me quickly to the bed, he sits himself down and effortlessly pulls me across his lap. I gasp and kick my legs without thinking. The sting across my *** is instant and harsh. I gasp again, “Not a sound until I tell you to. Understand?”

     “Yes, Sir!” I gasp inwardly. His hand makes contact in the exact same spot as before, I cry out before I have the chance to bite my tongue. He pulls me off his lap by my hair so that I’m once again kneeling beside him. He grabs my face tightly with his other hand. “What part of ‘not a sound’ was confusing to you, ****?” I stare at him, keeping my mouth firmly shut, hardly even daring to breathe. “That’s better. Now, do you know why I’m punishing you?” I look down in shame and nod sullenly.

     “Tell me.” His tone is even, this is when he is his most menacing. No anger, no betrayal of any emotion besides purpose.

     “You’re punishing me because I disobeyed you, Sir.” My voice feels small and I can feel the flush in my cheeks.

      “I want specifics, ****. I need to know you understand or else this is pointless.” I breathe in deeply and let out a shaky breathe. “You’re punishing me because I deliberately disobeyed your orders. I went out after work when I was told to come right home. I didn’t call or text or let you know where I was, and I came home well after my curfew.” My voice began to falter, “I’m so, so sorry Sir, I’m sorry I disobeyed, I never should have gone out. It was wrong, and you know best, and I know you only want what’s best for me and it’ll never happen again, I promise Sir, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The words came out in a huge rush and probably would have continued if he had not silenced me with a sharp pull of my hair.

     “That’s enough. All I wanted to hear was if you knew why you were being punished. As you keep demonstrating, you’re not very good at following instructions.” The disapproval is evident in his voice and all I can do is hang my head. “Now, to aptly punish you, I’m going to count your misdemeanours. Firstly, you blatantly disobeyed me by going out after work. Second, you failed to let me know where you were or what you were doing, or at the very least, that you were safe. Third, you came home three hours past your week night curfew. And just now, you failed to follow simple instructions.”

     Disappointment in myself washes over me in waves. I hate letting him down, I know he cares, and wants what’s best for me, and even though it seems unfair, there’s always a reason. I’m cursing my own stubbornness when his voice brings me back to the here and now. “I am going to spank you 40 times, hard; Ten for each instance that you knowingly disobeyed me. Do you understand?”

     I nod my head rapidly, nearly giving myself whiplash trying to prove to him that I can listen, I’m a good listener. He says a soft okay before pulling me back across his lap. He places me across his left knee, using his right leg to hold my legs down, and with his left hand gripping my ponytail tightly, I feel the sting of his hand crashing against my right *** cheek. “What do you say, *****?” He growls at me.

     “One. Thank you, Sir.” I whimper. He hits me hard in the same spot before the words have finished leaving my mouth, I gasp, “Two. Thank you, Sir.” And again, four in quick succession, so quickly I can hardly keep up. I know he’s doing this on purpose. I know because he knows that I’m well attuned to the fact that if I lose count, he starts over.
The blows are merciless, and by number 23, it feels like he’s holding a welding torch to my ***. He’s switching, right and left, right and left, rhythmically striking me over and over.

     “Thirty-two. Thank you, Sir.” “Thirty-three. Thank you, Sir.” I cry out, sputtering the words out in one long breath, “Thirty-Four-Thank-You-Sir.” The last six are the hardest I’ve ever felt, and by the final one the tears are streaming down my face and I’m choking on my own sobs. At this point I can’t even tell which is worse, the sharp pain of his hand on reddened ***, or knowing that I’ve disappointed him and have done so by my own choice. I’m sobbing so hard I can’t even make out my own words. I begin to panic, trying to recall if I thanked him for the last one. His answering smack, though much lighter than the previous ones, confirm my fear.

     “Forty, forty, forty. Thank you Sir, Thank you, forty!” I sputter without thinking. I’m shaking and crying, bent across his knee, my stinging *** settling into a dull, warm, ache.

     Before I have time to take in the respite, he’s flipping me over and pulling me into his arms. Careful of my sore bottom, he holds me close and kisses my temple, “Are you okay, little one?”

     I nod my head quickly before burying it into the crook of his neck. The tears have stopped flowing so freely but the sobs still wrack my shaken frame. He kisses me gently and rubs tiny circles on my back, “Speak to me, I need to hear that you’re okay.” His voice is much softer, tinted with a gentle concern.

     “Yes,” my voice is hoarse and I clear my throat, “yes, I’m okay. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” I begin to cry again. He holds me tighter, nuzzling my hair with his nose and kissing me so softly. “Sh, sh, it’s okay, you did great, and you’re a very good girl.” I look up at him, and am instantly filled with a small sense of pride; pride at hearing those words, at making him happy, and being held, safe and cared for in his arms.

     He leans back slightly and uses his hand to tilt my chin up, forcing me to meet his eyes, “you’re sure that you’re okay?” I nod slightly, my eyes no doubt displaying my sincerity, “Yes, Sir, I’m okay, thank you.” He kisses my forehead and instructs me to lie on my stomach on the bed. I do so right away, albeit slowly in my current state. He stands and returns quickly with a bottle of lotion. He climbs on top of me, straddling my legs and uses the lotion to massage my stinging ***. As he does, he asks, “so, what have you learned today, little one?”

     “Forty is a lot higher of a number than I thought?” I can feel him smirking behind me but he gently flicks my bottom in response, Ouch! I cry out softly, and then giggle. “That you always know what’s best and though I may not agree with every rule, I belong to you and what you say, goes, and that I need to be a better listener, and most importantly, communicate.” He can sense my sincerity because he leans down to kiss the back of my head.  

     “Good girl.” The words are murmured into my hair and my skin prickles with goosebumps, I smile into the covers and dig my fingers into it. He notices immediately and grasps both of my hands firmly.  He’s still leaning down over me, his ******* inches away from my still aching ***. Before he can say anything, I’ve closed the distance and rubbed my behind against him. He tenses and I giggle in a very unlike-me way.

     Quickly he has flipped me over, his hands pinning my wrists above my head and his body keeping me firmly in place on the bed. “Oh? You’re a hungry little ****, are you?”

     I squirm beneath him, his words sending tingles through my body, causing me to drip with anticipation. I nod, biting my lip, moaning involuntarily at the thought of him entering me. I feel the heat between my legs, my heartbeat rising, my eyes darting between both of his, which, as usual, gave nothing away. “Please,” I whimper, the begging tone in my voice not lost on either of us.

     Quickly and suddenly he slaps me across the face, I hear the sound before I feel it. I meet his gaze, eyes blazing down at me; I can feel them burning my skin. I squirm again, desperately trying to break free of his hold on me, I need him to touch me, I want to launch myself at him. He slaps me again, harder this time, though it’s just a warning. I stop moving completely, and he gives me a look as if to stay, “stay ******* still.”  

     He’s up and back in the blink of an eye. Before I know what’s happening, he’s flipped me back over and is strapping leather cuffs around both of my wrists, binding them together behind my back. I open my mouth to moan and am silenced by the gag being forced into my mouth. He fastens it tightly behind my head, leaving me immobilized and helpless in a matter of seconds. I squirm, trying to rub my thighs together to offer myself some relief. It feels heavenly for a split second, but as if reading my mind, he grabs my ankles, putting cuffs on both and attaches a spreader bar between them. I have no hope for relieving myself and all I can do is give myself to him, and hope he’s merciful.

     The chuckle that escapes him is dark and sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve decided squirming is useless, and lie there, patiently waiting. I can feel his eyes on my body, hungrily taking in every inch of me; every inch of what belongs to him. “Now this is how I love to see you, worked up, *******, those lustful eyes. I don’t need to hear your voice to know that you’re begging, yearning to be touched.” His fingers lightly make their way up to back of my thigh, dancing, tantalizingly across my ***, and skipping, completely over where I want them. “I love the way your body tenses with anticipation,” I can feel his fingers hovering just over my *****. Not touching, not even thinking about touching. Just resting. “I own you, little one, you’re all mine. All of you.  Mine.” He slaps my ****, “who does this belong to?” I wince and jolt up, “yours, yours, all yours!” I cry through the gag.

     “Good girl,” he whispers gently as he begins to play with my *****, slowly, torturing me. I can feel myself getting wetter as he slides a single finger inside me. We gasp in synchronized time as he feels how wet I am, and I’m finally given something. He works his finger in and out in a torturous rhythm. I try to move my body to speed up his movement but it only results in a sharp smack on my ***.

     “Have patience, little one, I want to have my fun with you.” As I’m about to groan in protest he suddenly slides three fingers inside of me, causing me to cry out before giving into the sensation, giving my muffled thanks between moans. He’s still sliding his fingers in and out as I feel him shift his weight. I hear a zipper and the sound of pants sliding onto the floor. My insides

The day the angels came for you,
I was wearing a lipstick that stained my mouth
the color of raspberries.
When I came into the room,
we both ignored the fact that the monitor showed
that your heartrate jumped when you saw me,
and that my body instantly began to tingle.

I brought yellow roses
because I thought red would have been inappropriate,
and you giggled and made them into a flower-crown for me.
You remembered that yellow stood for friendship and admiration,
and I only nodded in response.

The get well soon cards were stapled to the walls of your room,
but only the outside of them showed,
and we were surrounded by teddy bears and balloons that
did not show the tastes of a twenty year old boy.
The nurse came in and when she saw the holes in the walls,
you shrugged and said that we ran out of tape.
She left in a hurry.

You said that you were excited to leave your body and go to heaven,
because you wondered if the "land of milk and honey"
was really all it is cracked up to be.
I sighed, and slowly asked the clouds
to keep you with me for another day.

You told me you were tired,
but you asked me if I would stay while you took a quick "siesta",
I said I would and when you drifted off,
I fought off my better judgment
and left a mark of raspberries on your forehead,
so when I sneaked out you would wake up
and look in the mirror and see that I told you goodbye.

My lips were still stained the color of berries
when I left red roses on your gravestone two weeks later,
and I wondered if you knew that all this time
I thought you would outlive me.

I want to be alone,
to sit between the
concave hollows of my bones,
nestle beneath folds of skin,
shut my eyes and
make the world go dim,
just me and a pulse,
a heartrate pumping blood
and when I open them
it's not the floodlit streets,
wars, fires or anger I see
but the trees and fields;
the peace i wear like a glove,
vowing not to take it off the
minute things get tough.

i told her that her jokes were
always funny. that they always brightened up
my day, that she was the one who brings a
smile across my face without even
trying.

but, then i told her that the one joke
that i couldn't tolerate was the one
about self-harm. she looked up at me,
and i swear her heartrate soared,
and then said,
"i understand, it won't happen again."
i looked at her, confused.
why was that so easy to say?
i then looked down at my wrist and
gulped a bit louder than i should,
and she got out from behind her desk
and then proceeded to say,
"I did it as well, i cut in highschool."

i stared blankly at her,
not expecting to hear that
she knows the fears i have.
she knows of what its like to
have a blade go across your skin,
she knows.

i hate that she knows.
i hate that she went through that,
that she knows that feeling.
i hate it.

but, at the same time, im glad
she knows, because maybe she can
be the one who helps me from
going on some relapse
frenzy.

i just hope that
maybe she wants to
be the one who
helps me.

i never really understood what
"it comes and goes in waves" meant
but now i can see
no matter how stationed i am to the floor
imagining my feet are tree roots extending into the earth
i have always felt myself
falter with the tides heavy motions
stumbling along in a dance i dont know the steps to
falling face first behind the crowd of people who have got it figured out
jealousy hitting the palms of my hands before the asphalt
missing you is a constant heartrate
but these memories, feeling you so vividly it shakes me down
it comes and goes in waves

i never understood what
"time heals all wounds" meant
because my skin is painted with bruises that share no connotation with love
even when they fade i can recount the ache theyve left
like a worn out map
of every time i have pretended not to hear the exhaustion drip from your words
i used to hear your voice in my favorite melodies
and share my songs with you like lullabies
but now music is just noise to erase your voice
i dont think that time will ever take you away from me
i dont think i'd want it to

i wish on every flash of light and every makeshift airplane shooting star that i could leave the piece of me that can't stop thinking of you on one of these one-time roadtrips with no destination
no cliche seems to cover how quickly the word love disintegrates or how mixing up being happy with being scared is coincidentally more common than anyone would have expected.
i will forget this trainwreck you put me in
this half angry poetry you made me write
because even if it holds no meaning,
time heals all wounds, it comes in goes in waves

I was going to compose a parallel poem
mirroring the ways you show you care
but you have made it evident
that I will never be your home.

You would
thoughtfully answer my never-ending stream of questions
carry me to bed with a blissful blanket of sleep and softness
grant me the honor of wearing anything you owned, and smile at my choices
actively correspond with me, more in the span of a few weeks than your standard for a lifetime
trust me to take care of your bright-green banana-of-a-boy
assist and twist and crack my spine further
track and plot my heartrate to find a trend in tempo and tone
and always provide the nearness I need to breathe
and feel
and be
myself.

I did not need to pen a poem
to know that you care, albeit reticent
but you have made it evident
that I will never be your home.

When I just can't sleep at night
You are the one on my mind
As I toss and I turn, turning on the light
Can't leave these mem'ries behind.

Day in, day out
I think about
What has come,
What is done
What you said
How you won.
The less it hurts
The more it burns
The more I think
The less I've learned.

In the morning, blinds are closed
Lights just hurt my eyes today
My tested heart never knows
How my emotions are gonna play.

Day in, day out
I think about
What has come,
What is done
What you said
How you won.
The less it hurts
The more it burns
The more I think
The less I've learned.

And when I look for answers
The questions have already gone
And as my heartrate dances
I find I'm searching for the dawn.

*I know I'll learn.

Why do we fall so fast
What makes the heart turn from friends to wanting more
Nothing changes on the outside, yet everything changes on the inside
The heart is just a physical part
It’s all in the mind they say
But why does it strike so deep in the chest
Breathing deepens
Heartrate quickens
and the body flushes with a heat seen nowhere else
Why do things change so rapidly
What makes the heart grow fonder when there is nothing more to love
Every time
Every new person
It’s the same thing
The same feeling, the same painful, endless cycle
What can make it stop? What will cease the useless void of longing and hope for something that could never and will never exist? Is there such a thing? Is there such a thing that exists that is no more destructive than the very thing we are trying to mask?

The human mind is so beyond complex, but to choose just one single thing to understand wholly about the human brain and its thoughts, reasoning, and comprehension, the form of falling in love would be the one.

Based on a horrible dream!!!!!!

Chapter 1
The Viewers
The blood dripped out of the nasty **** across his chest as the beast ripped vigorously through the ribs. The beast could hear the loud pounding of the heart jumping up and down covered in bits of flesh and bone. As its inwardly curved razor sharp teeth drew closer and closer, a screech from across the hall came from a little boy. He had a yellow shirt, torn up covered in blood with half of his arm ripped off showing nothing left except for a small loose broken bone dangling by a couple veins. The boy was screaming words at the beast, and I couldn’t make out what he was saying, the beast pounced off me and started to sprint down the hall. Only a few meters before the boy it jumped onto the wall and leaped past the boy taking his head clean off his shoulders with not a single movement of it legs. Then i saw the tail whip itself about shaking off blood from the boys body. The beast turned around slowly. it had a grin on its horrifying face as if it was enjoying this it then sprinted up to me with an opened mouth then everything went black.
I woke up from the deepest slumber with a shocking scream, as if all hell broke loose inside my mind. But this time it occured at only 1:45 instead of 2:00. It’s occurring earlier than usual, could this be a sign that it will be happening sooner than expected. Or thats a least what i thought as i climbed out of my old tattered sheets. I opened my eyes to the smell of newly cooked eggs, and the sight of my roomba bringing me breakfast as it tries to maneuver its way through the carpet. I think to myself “it’s going to be another great day”, as i go to get the meal from the little robot. I waved towards the glass panel where the doctors are standing writing on a clipboard. I shave off the hair of my beard as the razor blade softly touches the skin on my chin.
As i was getting dressed i was having flashes of the dream, i was starting to get light headed. The doctors were seeing my heartrate rise, my blood was flowing rapidly through my body. My nose started to bleed, with a rush of blood i fell to the floor squirming around like a dying worm. My eyes started to shake in  my head, suddenly i felt almost like there was a sharp point trying to find its way through my head and push out my eye. But it was failing miserably, it was already in my eye trying to find a way out. It sees the light, its going through the my pupil as it punctured a hole in my eye causing it to blow apart. Almost as if someone had taken a small shaving knife slicing across the retina allowing the inside of his body to find a way out through the head.  Blood squeezing out all over the side of my face. With a handful of worms starting to pour out of my eyes onto the floor you can already tell it was another failed experiment. The lab coats didn’t care about it, they only started laughing throwing their clipboards at my bleeding corpse. Then one man steped forward and said “ there’s no need to get mad boys we’ll start running tests on the little girl next….. Just you wait Josaia, I’ll bring you back one way or another.” grinning from cheek to ****** cheek he smashed my head with his foot causing the blood to splatter all over his lab coat. Then everything after that was plain black with the faintest voice saying “on to the next one, I’m done with you, you stupid insect”.

Chapter 2
Swallowed
I was in my bed fast asleep, waiting for the drugs to kick in as I’m thinking ” I can’t wait to die today”.
Then I felt like the bed just got swallowed by the ocean and blood started to fill my lungs as I tried to breath. But to my liking I can somewhat breath a little while the blood is flowing through all my pores. My skin starts to stretch, making holes in my arms and legs. As the bed fills with all my blood, my skin rips off, piece by piece.  With skin overflowing and falling off the bed, my final thought is “I finally get to see you again.¨
Out of the silence, I hear the gurgling of the blood in my throat and lungs. My stomach explodes all over the wall and suddenly the six legged creature is standing above me. The demonic beast, its rows of teeth rotating back and forth, ***** the gore and guts out of me with its enormous tongue, curling the organs into its mouth.
I can see that this thing was once human, with its heavy eyes glaring at my face, trying to see that I was more than just a meat sack waiting to be eaten.  For this moment, I am the monsterś life source. In this minute, before it goes to finish off my family downstairs, the creature is somehow keeping me alive.  
As I try to close my eyes to die off,  this thing, this Ït¨ won’t let me.  The monster  wants me to see something. I hear a voice inside my head say “Stand up I want to show you something amazing.¨  I do what it tells me. I stand.  And then I start walking toward the blood covered stairs.
The sound of buzzing and thumping captures my attention. Without hesitation I jump the stairs to the bottom.  I see blood splattered over the walls and furniture. The bodys were torn apart and spread across the floor as I looked around the room. The thumping grows louder as it gets closer, searching for me.
!!Then I see her.  One girl still alive, still kicking, with blood all over her face. Her white dress was *****, ******, and torn up. you could see the skin off her thigh it was clearly human, with beautiful tan skin, it had dirt and blood mixed together to make almost rust colored prints up and down her legs. Then the voice in my head said ¨ look closer my boy, blink a couple times if you must. Things aren't always what the seem to be¨, so i blinked and rubbed my eyes a little. The girl slowly turned into this horrific figure. The legs had bites taken out of them, the skin was black and rotten the dress was drenched in blood. It was torn up so much that you could see most of her internal organs hanging out, but still, they were holding on by just a couple threads of flesh.
The little girl i saw only a couple seconds ago was completely gone and replaced with a rotting corpse that looks like it had be here for years, untouched by everything until an animal came in and ripped chunks out of her body to disturb the silence and peace her body had with the world. Her face was torn off entirely nothing left but broken, displaced, rotting bone and flesh. I could see that her body was being held up by strings attached to the ceiling, yet they were stitched into her head and body. Then out of nowhere she screeched, breaking her jaw off its hinges, and she jumped on top of me starting to tear out my flesh and bone.
I could not feel the pain I was supposed to, it was strange because death was not a concern to me at the time. I just want to drift off into the darkness in the back of my mind, and so I did with one last thought of her ̈I am coming Hope we will see each other, once again ̈.


Chapter 3
Obedience
It was an early night for me when my family went out of town to get away from me and my problems, and I prayed to God to send down a sign that i can have one person or one thing become loyal and trusting.
Around 11:30pm, I was suddenly awoken by an unearthly screech, it sounded like it was coming from right outside the window. Yet it still sounded like it came from right next to my ear, it sounded enormous and deadly with its piercing screech. I got up from my comfortable bed and went to the window only to see a silhouette of a giant creature leap into the darkness only meters away from where it was standing. I thought to myself that it must have powerful hind legs for it to jump that far. My mind was racing, thinking about if that creature only ran away because it saw me or if it did that on purpose, I can not stop thinking about whether or not I locked the door.
The next thing I knew, I heard banging around in the kitchen and I thought I heard a growl of some sort. Then the steps started creaking with a heavy thud, the beast is getting closer. It can smell the fear inside my mind. I can hear the light small breaths easing closer and closer to the door. The monster is at the door, I can see it’s shadow staying still right in front of the door. The seconds ticking by is increasing the tension between the terror in my mind and the horror beyond the door.
With a mind full of twisted things and different ways the next minute can go, I didn’t realize the creature had already opened the door and was peeking its head inside. The things head was pale with small strands of hair coming out the top, the teeth were sharp with blots of blue at the tip. Its horns were the most torn up almost like they went through a tree shredder, and still made it out without a second to spare. The face looked like a wendigo but had longer ears and more of a sharp dagger like eyes set on one thing and one thing only, meat. And from the looks of it I was the only meat around for a while.
From the second our eyes met I knew for a complete fact, my life was over. The beast started to walk up to me, and without hesitation, I put my hands out in front to protect myself. It just stood there for a quick second then it leaned its forehead against my palm and started to growl something then stopped itself before any sounds could come out. I said out loud “what the **** are you doing, do something”, upon hearing this, the beast says to me in a calm but deep voice “Is this what you wish me to do”?
I gaze upon its face as it says these words, as if I have never heard anything talk before. I never knew that the beasts of the forgotten woods can speak the same way as humans. The ones that speak to people when in their natural form are called familiar’s. I have never heard of one in real life, these things are usually in video games and story books maybe even folklore.
The creature spoke with fragile and gentle words when it said once again “is this what you wish me to do?”, I had no clue what I wanted to say to it. Before I could think, I said “what do you want from me”. The creature answered- with these exact words, “for you to command my soul. In doing so, you will wash away my eternal damnation, curing me to go back to the place for which I would call home and you heaven”.
I was staring in awe, when it stood there for a good minute or two. I then mustered up the courage to say “what do I call you from here on out? Or do I just name you”? The beast spoke in one of the most soothing voices I have ever heard when it said “Arzania rolice was my name before I became this hideous demon, devouring humans who defy the natural law of the wicked.” with a resentful manner when it ended that sentence.
I then said with surprise in my tone, “so you were a woman”. “Were?” said arzania with a bit of anger in her voice. “Were!? I still am! For your information during the day I originate back, and turn at night.” she said with that little bit of anger turning into sadness.

Seated at the candle-lit dinner table my
aural senses distracted by musicians neglect
the biographic monologue of the diner before me.
Feet impulsively impose their rhythmic behaviour

timidly beating the floor, improvised drums
silenced whilst nonchalantly looking elsewhere,
artless reaction to captivating tunes, pretending
self-possession as vibrations slowly softly gently creep

along my spine, flowing through veins and nerves
altering heartrate unable to make believe interest
in words unheard any longer, finely tuning to meld
when my head ineluctably yields to sway inviting,

the rest of my body and him to follow. ‘Stand up!’
I interrupt rolling shoulders beamingly gazing
into his eyes, eager to be swung, swirling hips
outpouring sensuality, his and mine getting closer

until hands meet each other’s skin enticing and
though everything is warmer shivers swiftly cloud
my shutting eyes, dizziness inebriating movement
entranced, pleasantly losing consciousness

into his arms with a final Do.

Today, I learned that when you touched me
My brain was still developing
In its ability to think long-term.

Today, I learned that I have persistent post-traumatic stress,
And that I cannot ever freely speak of what occurred
Without blue and red lights flashing
And slashing
Through your life
And mine.
So today, I felt your fingers again
I heard your breath replace my own
My body is, at most,
an autonomy forgotten
In the violent aftermath of your love.

Today, I hurt a perfect lover,
Who cannot taste the blood you made
Still wasting away, wrought between my hips
I was a young girl but, for you, I cursed the world
Cast myself into exile from those you said
Didn’t love me
Like you did
On that day

On that day
The sun blushed itself away into dusk
And I watched as I washed away
down the drain
The dripping dregs
Of what you’d craved, captured
And completely consumed
From me

Today, I know you willed my worship unto you
Because secrets from God
are worth dying for
when the suffering feels religious
and the pains feel like prayers
and the truth hurts so bad that I can’t
even think about it
alone
at home
with my eyes closed.

When 90 pounds wasn’t enough
And 90 days went by in a blur
And 90% out of the time  
My heartrate was 190 beats per minute

What there may be left to say
Is lost to my ebbing hedon’s memory
I let all the shades of you crash away
Evaporate the ocean of
a badly bruised mind
now left with little more
than terrified questions

When my back was pressed against
The paneling,
My soma was reified into
woman
And I threw my arms around your neck
and lost my sobbing to the friction
it burned so hot and sharp
and it smelled like bleach
as you ****** me
as we dangled
in that ****** metal box
You licked away my tears then
When you consumated this pain
for your *******
and I only wanted your embrace when
You licked my tears away

But its
Cold water on an old burn now
Your fingers, drenched in me then
Pried into my porcelain
Your love tasted like pennies and
It’s never left my tongue

Maybe it was your
Reddened thoughts that made you
Beat the color into me
Beat this sadness into me
But that was a long time ago.

The blood dripped out of the nasty **** across his chest as the beast ripped vigorously through the ribs. The beast could hear the loud pounding of the heart jumping up and down covered in bits of flesh and bone. As its inwardly curved razor sharp teeth drew closer and closer, a screech from across the hall came from a little boy. He had a yellow shirt, torn up covered in blood with half of his arm ripped off showing nothing left except for a small loose broken bone dangling by a couple veins. The boy was screaming words at the beast, and I couldn’t make out what he was saying, the beast pounced off me and started to sprint down the hall. Only a few meters before the boy it jumped onto the wall and leaped past the boy taking his head clean off his shoulders with not a single movement of it legs. Then i saw the tail whip itself about shaking off blood from the boys body. The beast turned around slowly. it had a grin on its horrifying face as if it was enjoying this it then sprinted up to me with an opened mouth then everything went black.
I woke up from the deepest slumber with a shocking scream, as if all hell broke loose inside my mind. But this time it occured at only 1:45 instead of 2:00. It’s occurring earlier than usual, could this be a sign that it will be happening sooner than expected. Or thats a least what i thought as i climbed out of my old tattered sheets. I opened my eyes to the smell of newly cooked eggs, and the sight of my roomba bringing me breakfast as it tries to maneuver its way through the carpet. I think to myself “it’s going to be another great day”, as i go to get the meal from the little robot. I waved towards the glass panel where the doctors are standing writing on a clipboard. I shave off the hair of my beard as the razor blade softly touches the skin on my chin.
As i was getting dressed i was having flashes of the dream, i was starting to get light headed. The doctors were seeing my heartrate rise, my blood was flowing rapidly through my body. My nose started to bleed, with a rush of blood i fell to the floor squirming around like a dying worm. My eyes started to shake in  my head, suddenly i felt almost like there was a sharp point trying to find its way through my head and push out my eye. But it was failing miserably, it was already in my eye trying to find a way out. It sees the light, its going through the my pupil as it punctured a hole in my eye causing it to blow apart. Almost as if someone had taken a small shaving knife slicing across the retina allowing the inside of his body to find a way out through the head.  Blood squeezing out all over the side of my face. With a handful of worms starting to pour out of my eyes onto the floor you can already tell it was another failed experiment.

I'm here for you
I'm gay for you
if you want it to stop
well baby it's too late
you had a chance to tell me I'd never be a top
but instead you accelerated my heartrate

My existence was disconnected, dispelled,
mistaken, misshapen, heartbreaking, shaking,
wanting to escape from the shackles of torturous
pain, but I was into deep to break free from it all.  
My mind was floating in suspense, my muscles tense,
my frail flesh filled with pins and needles, the anxiety
episode exploding sporadically, feeling like I was
losing control, slowly dying on the inside, ******
diction drilling new waves in me as I lingered in time,
trying to ignore the warning signs.  But the panic
attacks were damaging, occurring in broken stages,
drumbeating, my heartrate escalating, my fingers
tingling, my chests feeling weak, my thighs hard
like solid bricks. I could feel my life being stolen
away, detached from my counterpart, unable to start
or crank the ignition to my engine. I was scared
and lonely, falling below the scorching sun,
the aching landscape, and the painful screams
streaming in my subconscious.

You make me feel so weak.
When you are so close to me,
I feel like I am completely freezing
and heating simultaneously.
Your dreadhead dynasty delivers
the greatest excitement that can’t explain.
When you kiss me, I can smell your
pleasing scent sifting in my nose.
You are so super fly that makes
my insides go wild like a spontaneous volcano.
You accelerate my heartrate
with your naughty thoughts and touches.
I’m so high in your cloud of ****** surprises.
I can’t deny your handsomeness.
You ******* away with your **** man cave.
I just want to feel my fingers gliding
through your dreadlocks, our hearts interlocked,
vibrating like a racing engine, like a washing machine,
so sprung on you, never wanting to let go.