is it completely wrong that i
want
you
to
c
o
n
s
u
m
e
me?
skin you, and climb into the warmth of you?
our blood can ebb and flow together
to walk, and to sleep, and to breathe into you?
our hearts can beat in sync
i may just cave and admit that id rather be you.
our bodies deny us
foreign
parasite
intruder.

who wouldve thought that the penis
replaced my razor.

i didnt think about it until the day i cut myself off my sexual addiction
i had stopped cutting
and moved onto fucking
i didnt realize it
but
because i couldnt cut
when i was fucking
because my body had to be clear,
pure,
how fucking ironic
how i needed to portray such a pristeen and sane, fabricated image
just to have someone use me.
just so they didnt think i was insane.
but its true.
its day one of self-proclaimed de-sluttification
and here i am
me and my pink razor...
fucking all over again
so whats;
better?
safer?
cleaner?
saner?
healthier?
what hurts more?
why do i need either one?
is it him?
its him.
its me.
i dont know.
all i know is that it feels so good at the time
so good
and then
i crash
and i feel it deeper
deeper than a fuck
and
deeper than a cut
we all cope in different ways with the shit we have been through
and even though its in the past it still comes up to fuck us, cut us...
self-destruction
we are all time bombs.


theres something amazing about a bleeding wound
how it billows out of such a small area
how it closes and sparkles
repairs itself quick and easy
budding
and
full of life as it explodes
silently.

just this small warzone upon my hip makes the world melt away
it melts into my skin and it absorbs its all.
its like it takes every worry, every thought, and it closes it inside the wound.
one breath and one stroke
so much that it can evoke
not deep enough to scar
enough to break the skin,
find that treasure within
enough to wince
and enough to smile
it feels so good when youre nothing.