Buzzing bees and the distant memory of feverish belly rubs. Itchy fingers that would glide around her navel as she kicked her legs waiting for me to do my thing. Stood there unzipping myself, I’m lost in her image and it’s kinda painful and yet the lust she brings makes me feel like a child again. Y’know, all dizzy and effortless, that kinda thing. Fiddling with my dick while looking out the window at some squirrel that’s jumping around the back garden, I hack up something unpleasant and spit it out into the toilet. Then comes a burst of gas that creeps from my arse, and although the smell is pleasant enough for me, it’s pretty grim, it must be said. But hey, we’re all the same, and although most paint themselves as holier than holy, we’re nothing but animals, inside and out. We’re dumb and we’re junk, baby, and that’s all there is to it. Those memories of her, they collide and spark and implode in the time it takes for me to dab myself dry. Somewhere, out there, shadows belonging to my previous self are causing mischief. They’re still playing games after all these years, and they will continue to do so for as long as I keep on believing in my ability to work the word. And these words. These visions. They’ve cast me adrift. They’ve pushed me into a reality where nothing is known and every moment of my life is a descent into what I fear and love the most. What a ride. What a headfuck. In my mouth, I taste summer afternoons and jam on toast. Behind my eyes, there are swans and magpies and car journeys where the wind messes up my hair but I don’t care because what’s a little wind in comparison to the silence of death? Despite the darkness that dances around me, there’s a light in my soul that shines far brighter than I ever thought possible.

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on

A Journal for Damned Lovers Volumes 1 & 2 on

18 replies »

  1. I wanted to paste my favourite bit of this but Kindra beat me to it, so what she said… You say lots of things I like too, but I’m sure you already know that.

    Sorry for being a horrible copy-cat, Kindra. ☺ X

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