i dreamt of a dream, my seeker, my flesh eater, my one eye was open and looking at you watching me. your eyes had the gleam of the moon casting shadows on our remains, you blinked back the darkness, only light remained, but it wasn't enough for you to watch me make my escape. my emaciated corpse slithered in the silence of your decay toward a tiny pin prick of fresh air entering your morgue. the smell of your ruin hung in the acrid air, festering, creeping into the very marrow of your being. you were always immune to the stench of your rotting flesh, must have been used to the aroma of putrification, it clings to your skin. as i wriggle free from the memory of you, my skin begins to regain elasticity, color starts to slowly replace the dull gray of my stupor. my heart beats once again, slowly at first, but quickening with each audible gasp escaping my parched lips, lungs expand, contract, inhale, exhale. my desire is stronger than your bitter almond poison, sweet smelling, but deadly to ingest, i wretch bile, black and green prism bioluminescent emptiness creates unbearable cramping. still, i wretch your vitriolic tirade. it matters not to me whether you escape your own imprisonment alive or dead. avoid the eye of contact. the skin receiver awaits your flesh, you're running out of reason, the stampede crushes you.
everything trapped in your insanity regains reason and rushes toward this pin prick of fresh air, safety from you awaits on the other side of your deception. ah, the sweetness rising in waves, carries me onward, farther and farther away from your corrupt flesh filled madness. you are still in your remembrance, you are silent in your predatory gaze, contempt stretches so easily across your full lips as you disappear from my memory. images crack and groan under the pressure of nothingness i feel for you, my heart erupts every scintilla of affection ever felt, ever experienced, ever anticipated, and your voice is carried away as a wail of sorrow. mournful rapping is tapping, tapping, tapping out morse code, but i am no longer your code breaker, your s.o.s. means nothing, my innocence is not for sale or trade. shut up. shut up. shut up. shut up.
no one is cumming for you and you surely are not cumming for anyone, but your own self service. dry humped bed sheets lay crumpled at your feet, tangled up in your obsession, a hair brush hangs limp from your crippled hand. a twitch from your middle finger causes tremors to terrorize your paralyzed flesh, the brush falls from your grasping fingers with a thud, dull and sullen, same as you. you don't know what it is like to be me. don't come near me, don't crawl after me, don't. i feel cold inside my skin, but i survived this hell i'm in, it seems easy, it seems easier. this is easy for me. my fingertips touch my own flesh, warm, alive again, pleasure pulses through my veins, the poison of your life expelled, i breathe with ease. controlled alternating deletion erases the memory of you, every blink eradicates your image, every stroke quickens my step further from you. my dreamer, my seeker, my flesh eater, you are a barbarian, you are a harbinger of doom, you are dried pulp crushed under your own torment. your crushed remains are blown away on an evil wind toward the dead sea.
your silence is music to my tone deaf ears.
copyright, 2010, terri l. gillentine, all rights reserved
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