Bad Machine


Moodswings and changing faces. Big bad bones, ready to break and taste. The sandman comes calling. Comes wishing for a warm body to call his own. All that skin, and all those dreams, just begging to be consumed. Beneath flickering lights, a fan cuts through the air. Fingers peeling off useless clothes, the only thing that matters, is seeing every inch of what you are. No holding back. No secrets. You’re a woman, and I’m a machine. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Blood red lips, and a belly ready to be filled right up. Gotta unleash all that’s inside. This beast within, in need of calming. The shape of your body, so easy in my hands. The way I take what I wan’t, and the way you let me have it all. All of what you are, just begging for release. Surrender to my whims, and give me those limbs. Let me take control. No holding back, for oblivion will set us free. No words, only actions. Truth in our act. Pure as snow. Divinity and perversion, dancing in the darkness.

The oil that pumps through my veins. It stains and burns. It obliterates junk and imperfection. Shapes at the foot of your bed, making you bend to my will. Don’t fear what you don’t understand, just reach out and touch me. Touch faith, and a little bit more. Step outside, and take my hand. Come close, and see what’s on the other side.

8 replies »

      • Thank you! I started writing about 12 years ago. I originally had a LiveJournal account. I wrote solidly for about three or four years, then sporadically after that. It’s only been in the last eight months or so that I’ve become prolific again. I’ve also been working on a novel for a few years, but struggled with it due to my lack of interest in writing. Now I’ve got myself in a good place again, hopefully it’ll get done sooner rather than later.

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