30 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
30 lines
2.4 KiB
Plaintext
I can see right through you and I find myself oddly excited.
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You glow deep inside like a nightlight. I wish to be warmed by this light.
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The colors change so rapidly I can hardly focus my eyes. I must crawl inside you at once.
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And your ass is like a peach, like a peach ass.
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Stop staring all of you. There won't be enough room for you to climb in; I am too small in the necessary spaces.
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Your gaze fills me with deep shame.
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Feverish sensations fill my blood from matters of a violent and unfulfilled desire. I am swollen with sickness.
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You are made of beets. I think this is wonderful. You are made of beets. I think this is wonderful.
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I wished for her to remove them one by one with her mouth.
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It would cause a hemorrhage, of this I am certain.
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When she is not around, I do not exist at all.
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A pathological disorder, let's be honest.
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In my dreams there is an intimacy I have never known.
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These newfound discoveries are causing me to spray strange oily liquids.
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When I wake up, I feel profound disappointment and humiliation.
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You are too needy, dripping with need. You should probably kill yourself before someone drowns in your seepage.
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You paralyze me with disgust. You are spilling open like a gelatinous urchin belly.
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I am aware of this. Please tell me how I can make myself appear more desirable to others. I would like to know my surgical options.
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I hate you.
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I would like to end your life—but why? I know: meat. You are nothing but meat. You smell like diapers and sausage.
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I disagree. Your waxy face looks ashen like a cadaverous larva, but I am enamoured with your smell, like a cranal flower with a frankincense opening, steeped in the essence of leather and mimosa.
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You are a delight. If only I could remove your head altogether.
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I will perform the surgery at once. I hope you are not too sensitive to pain.
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I will elect to have the surgery, too. There is someone particular I have in mind whom I would like to impress. So far, nothing else is working.
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What is this burning sensation? It is all encompassing. As if there are holes everywhere, all over me.
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Burning sensations. Burning sensations.
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I cannot make sense of all this slime. You are so slimy. Might I run my tongue along this substance?
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Perhaps I will move underground like a subterranean alien.
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I will visit and bring gifts to soothe your decaying limbs which will be crushed by the weight of the earth on top of your body.
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I will also apply my saliva technique to your rotten spots. No problem at all. |