When Broken Glass Comes to Visit

My days are shattered. My body coming apart neatly at the seams. It's like a crack directly down the center of me. It takes the wheel and splits my mind in two neat halves. Everything moves exactly one inch to the left and I am undone. It's moving in my stomach, it's reaching behind my eyes. It's like a beehive under my skin, buzzing and stinging. Shifting me. Fracturing me.

Strangeness comes to stay. Steals all my pillows and leaves my head on the hard, cold floor. I'm crying. Reaching inside my self trying to yank my guts out, trying to pull this unease out of me the hard way. I want to bleed it out. I want to be normal. I can't think. I can't leave. Someone locked me in here and I can't figure out why.

It takes over and becomes control lost inside a huge vibrating jar of anxiety all rose coloured with splintering glass. I try to sleep it away but every time I open my eyes it's there. It's waiting like a big spider crouching in my mind nibbling at the wires of my sanity. It's waiting to pounce on me and I could sleep a thousand years but it would still be there. Ageless. Unforgiving. Waiting.

And I am always lost on days like this. No bread crumbs can bring me home. No lights blinking in the distance a warning to travelers. I'm out here. I'm out here. I'll be out here until the world finally cracks open and swallows me whole.

Sex Scene

He was sinking his hand below the waistband of my lace panties and whispering something in breathy French into my ear. I didn't understand the words but I felt the sentiment pressed up against my leg. He ran his fingers along the edge of my stomach and traced his fingernails around the outline of my hips. Soon my pants were migrating to the floor to hibernate for the night and he was pushing his lips against the black lace between my legs, tearing at it with his teeth as he eased those silky garments down my legs.

He slid his hands up my torso to rest on my breasts and buried his face in that soft mound of flesh before him. I gasped and gripped the headboard above me. His tongue expertly exploring every soft, aching fold causing me to arch my back and whimper in pleasure. I closed my eyes and focused on the spreading warmth from the center of my cunt taking over my body until it exploded into a thousand lights, a scream and a deep pleasure from the focus of his hurried licking.

As I was still awash in waves of pleasure he quickly pulled his naked flesh up my body and slipped his hardness inside of me. Again I found myself gasping as my body tightened around him, throbbing and aching in a most sensual way. He started rocking slowly, pulling the length of himself almost completely out and then easing it back in. Deep long strokes as he whispered in my ear in that same breathy French in between gentle gasps at the touch of my body. I flexed my internal muscles to grip him harder and his breath came out faster. He pulled my head back and buried is face into my heaving breasts, licking each nipple until they were hard and then moving his tongue up my neck until finally meeting my lips in a deep, penetrating kiss that mimicked the penetration between my legs.

The room began to blur as his thrusting increased in pace and need. I laced my fingers into his hair and sunk my teeth into his neck. He clasped his fingers around my throat, squeezing gently. The pace increased more. His thrusts getting deeper, more urgent. We both moaned, gasped and whimpered. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, wrapped my legs around him and pulled him even deeper. And with one final series of frenzied thrusts he closed his eyes, moaning deep and long as he came inside me.

We both collapsed in a ball of sweat and tangled legs. The moonlight crept in the window and far off a siren sounded somewhere in the long, dark night...

Candy

It is just blood covering my lips, thick and sticky. Tasting of sweet rotting sugar and rusted copper pennies. It's staining my hands a deep clotted vermillion. A painting in gore splashed across my chest and neck. It's just your blood. So sweet, so syrupy. You remind me of candied apples on hot summer nights, the red candy melting down my hands and sticking to my jeans.  I want to eat you.

She won't want you if you don't have a heart anymore, old lover of mine. She might think she loves you but your sugared heart still belongs to me. I claimed ownership of it many years ago with my dirty hands and dirtier, twisted mind. And if I reach those filthy clawed fingers into your chest now I can pull your creamy center out for both of you to see. I can eat it like strawberry pie and suck those insides up like clotted cream.

I'm waiting to bury my teeth into the vein just below your chin. I can taste salty taffy sweat brought on by short gasps as I sit on your chest. I can feel your pulse racing against my lips. I can feel the blood singing it's sweet song to me, my flaxened haired candy man. I can feel you quivering like an opiate hardlined into my bloodstream. You are a chocolate covered gummy bear I just can't wait to sink my teeth into. And as I drip sour saliva down your soft chewable neck I can taste your fear in the back of my throat like hot chocolate too delicious to swallow.

When I rip sallow flesh away with needle sharp teeth and am met with a spray of deep marshmallow crimson and chunks of slippery flesh, I am awash in your regret and sudden shock at my threats become real. Your blood on my lips, yes thick and sticky and sweeter than any syrup I have ever tasted. Sweeter than all the candied apples at the carnival. With your blood painted across my twisted smile I can listen to your gurgling, eyes rolling back in your head like bright bulging gum balls and twist my fleshy smile even wider as I watch your sticky sweet red life seep out of you onto the cold, hard floor.

You are a candy wrapper, all eaten and balled up and tossed in the trash. Now I have to move on and find something else to devour.