More insane ramblings...
He was drunk and he needed a ride, they were more than happy to oblige.
We told him not to go but he was up for a little kink.
I never thought it would go that far.
He said he'd never let us down, but I guess fairytale's always have their own morbid twist and gruesome endings.
So I hang here and wait, a spot of hope and beauty in your mass grave.
I should have known...
There was a perfect moment shattered in interruption as his apparitions swirled out of their depths.
Angry maddened eyes bearing searing pain and driving iron hard fists into his body and the sex and the shame and it felt so good to him he begged to
never let it stop, he begged "please kill me", here and now, slow and hard and take him to that place where his soul shrivels and despairs beneath the
onslaught... yes, that is what he is meant for, that is what he is good at, that is what makes him useful, that is his purpose and they are happy to
Lust hardened hands groping, invading, violating. Knives flashing cold and brilliant, artfully applied, efficiently wielded to extract maximum pain
with minimum damage. Ropes binding, suffocating with my eyes wide shut.
Haunted hollow eyes looking on.
It's the perfect murder when addiction meets its abductor.
Silence and substance lack relevance and with each forced kiss I stand in recognition. I take the blame. I take the shame. He takes the pain and he
[snip] loves it.
They leave him crying and alone in the basement of my heart with my mountains of self regret and I'll strive in the darkness, I'll think out loud and
of misery I'll fall to my knees in the dirt.
Pain makes you beautiful and now beauty has been captured.
A gun in your hand, a stubborn trigger in trembling fingers.
A subconscious without resistance.
Screeching vocals, octaves of unexplainable shame, a lullaby so loud and jarring that the purity is ruptured. Nothing but a pathetic song without a
voice and you scream so loud that no one can hear you.
You cry in the black despair of desolation in the cold bitter winds that echo the supplications of the dying.
My dreams are forgotten.
The night becomes absolute.
edit on 12/10/11 by masqua because: Censor circumvention edited