i am worn.
i am torn.
i am sick.

can i just lay here naked on your bed? will you touch me till i am wet? would you whisper in my ear how it’s all going to be all right till i beg for you to let me come? could you just go down on me and lap between my legs till i pass out from exhaustion?

i do promise to return the favor.

Thank you Madeline Glass for Fleshbotting this post.

i was the wounded hunter ambushed by my prey. i laid there panting and the angel came down unto me in her bright light, to extend a healing hand. the first instinct was to grab her and suck her dry. i knew it was not proper to treat a savior as such. she fluttered about me, tending to my wounds with her words and gentle touch. my teeth were bared as i watched her out the corner of my eye. she taunted me with her plume and i knew there was a dangerous dance between her and i.

my muscles twitched and my thoughts became clear. i admired her soft white grazing against my flesh. patiently i waited for her to come closer. as she neared, i struck and pulled a handful of her precious feathers from her wing. i watched intently as she scoffed at me and the blood beaded from her exposed flesh.

never the less she continues to save me when in need. she always forgives the sinner in me, even when i can not forgive myself. i have saved every feather i have plucked from her delicate skin. it’s the sacrifice she made befriending an entity such as myself.

i had a dream his hand was firm between my legs. i writhed and twisted, i started to climb to an orgasm and i squeezed my legs harder cutting off the blood flow to his hand till i came. i felt my breath steal away as i half awoke from the dream. my clit pulsated as i basked in the aftermath and fell back asleep.

it was later on, while fully awake that i felt the need, the need to come. the necessity for sex is overwhelming, the demand for “something” more is growing. as i came i begged in a moaning whisper, “fuck me, fuck me, fuck. meee.”

it’s going to be a long week, a very torturous week.

while this town is busy sleeping
all the noise has died away
i walk the streets to stop my weeping
‘cause she’ll never change her ways

don’t fool yourself
she was heartache from the moment that you met her
my heart feels so still
as i try to find the will to forget her somehow
oh i think i’ve forgotten her now

her love is a rose pale and dying
dropping her petals and men unknown
all full of wine the world before her
was sober with no place to go

don’t fool yourself
she was heartache from the moment that you met her
my heart is frozen still
cause i try to find the will to forget her somehow
she’s somewhere out there now

oh my tears are falling down as i try to forget
her love was a joke from the day that we met
all of the words all of the men
all of my pain when i think back to when
remember her hair as it shone in the sun
the smell of the bed when i knew what she’d done
tell yourself over and over you wont ever need her again

But don’t fool yourself
she was heartache from the moment that you met her
oh my heart is frozen still
as i try to find the will to forget her somehow
she’s out there somewhere now

oh
she was heartache from the day that i first met her
my heart is frozen still
as i try to find the will to forget you somehow
cause i know you’re somewhere out there right now

Jeff Buckley
Forget Her

i realized i can write when extremely enthralled or when i am devastatingly wrecked. either way i don’t seem to write well with just “content”. i am working on a piece for Liras in the hopes it will be published and i can say it is coming along very well. i was given the option to choose from several strong words and without a second of a thought i chose, Death. i have high hopes for this piece.