Come Undone


When being in public was too difficult, I’d picture her breasts squeezed together. When anxiety had me on my knees, I’d imagine those nipples of hers poking between painted fingernails. Keeping the sickness at bay, I’d have her nude and breathless beneath me as I did my thing. Getting lost in the possession of her body, my illness would recede enough for me to think clearly. Even now, when the feeling stirs within, I’ll place her by my side ready for the taking. Maybe one arm around her neck, and the other to keep her from holding back those milky breasts as they bounce up and down. Consumed by darkness, with a hunger for destruction, and the need to control. When things began to fall apart, her body was always there, ready for me to break so I wouldn’t. There was tenderness, and there was love, but sex has a way of healing even the most damned of souls. The trick is to use it in moderation. If it becomes your drug, you’ll come unstuck. Oblivion helps to numb the pain, yet too much, and the taste of death overcomes the desire for life. Bite marks and a handful of hair. Labia distortion as she grimaced searching for optimum touch. That face of hers so deep in thought searching for the eyes of God, I’d just push myself in until the absence of thought was complete. Sometimes the bottle would get the better of me. Overcome by sleep, she’d complain at my excessive taste for wine, but I’d tell her that it was a writer’s job to drink, and that was enough to silence her pretty little mouth. Sometimes I’d bend her arms back and give it to her until she was on the verge of tears, but never because I was cruel, only because I wanted to take her someplace close to the edge. Pissing down with rain, I’d look into those big brown eyes. Secrets and illusion. Everything I wanted right there where it was supposed to be. A girl who knew what it felt like. A girl who understood the beauty of pain. Take my disease. Let me place my fingers in your mouth so I don’t have to hear you speak. Maybe I’m a ruiner. It doesn’t matter. As long as you take me away, that’s all I need. As long as you become more than just a body, that’s more than enough. The queen of my heart. The whore who knows me better than anyone else. Suffer me so I may live another day. Do it again and again. Take it until I come undone.

10 replies »

    • Far too kind again 😉 Thank you though. I think honesty in relationships, real honesty, is something that most are lacking. I myself have only been honest once they have ended, which is probably the reason for their conclusion unfortunately x

      • Real honesty is definitely lacking in most relationships, I don’t believe you should be 100% honest all of the time because that would be detrimental…but there’s got to be a middle ground…you can’t expect a relationship to thrive if you’re not ready to open yourself up, truly and sincerely…that’s my humble opinion anyway 🙂 x

      • It’s a spot-on opinion as well 🙂 It’s strange for me personally, because as a writer I’m constantly trying to put my insides down on paper, yet with those who I spend time with face-to-face, I’m quite secretive. It’s a strange contrast, but one I’m trying to fix 🙂 x

      • Oh, that’s not a strange thing at all, is it? I’m the same, I am what some of my friends call “mysterious” because I don’t necessarily want to open up and reveal too much…whereas when I write, well…it all comes out then, doesn’t it? Because it needs to. I sometimes think that people who read my things, people I’ve never met, actually know me better than some of my real-life friends…you know? x

      • I can really relate to that. Most people who I know in ‘real life’ aren’t supportive of my writing endeavours. They’ll try and dissuade me at every opportunity, whereas people I’ve never met are supportive and encourage me at every turn. That’s strange, and really, well, sad x

      • Oh, I know this situation too…it is strange…and sad…but I guess that unless you are the creative type as well, you can’t possibly understand people like us and the inner turmoil x

      • The inner turmoil it brings can be so soul-sapping, although I guess at the same time it motivates us to succeed like nothing else. It’s such a damned situation to be in, yet it’s one that just has to be overcome x

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