Ending You

You should have never spoke to me in that fashion even when I called you a Fucker for throwing me through the coffee table. I had never seen a bruise grow that big and that black so quickly. It was probably too much for me to expect gentleness from someone with such rough hands and a dark voice whispering in your ear all the time. I wanted to be a different voice but you held be down while I squirmed.

When I licked your skin you tasted like an orgasm; sticky, sweet and violent. I knew I shouldn't have seen you again but something kept bringing me back here. Maybe my own dark voice was getting louder. Maybe I wore my bruises like badges of what I could go through and still be standing. Still be alive.

When I sunk that knife into your chest and you started to gasp for air, that's when I understood what had to happen. I knew then that I was here to stop you from hurting anybody else. I was here to stop you. When I twisted the blade and you screamed I heard all the voices of all the women you hurt scream too. I quieted them with your blood running down my legs, with your lungs filling up with dark fluid and your voice slowly dieing away.

I came here to be something rougher. I came here to be right. I came here to end you and the whispers of a thousand sad female cries filled up my ears and drove me on. The night folded me up and pulled me away as you leaked onto the floor to never be heard from again.

For a moment, all the world was quiet and no one knew what to say.

I Called You Apache Heart

I'm still waiting for you to pick up your guitar and play a song for me. Maybe you can tell me the truth through lyrics you come up with on the fly. You can sing to me on the beach while the sun dips down below the skyline on this coastal city; tell me what you really feel in the dying light. You can tell me why you only love me in the summer with skin as hot as Arabic deserts and eyes lost to a guilty god.

I'm always dying in the light and I'm waiting for the summer to fade. I'm waiting for the dead fall to come for me. For it's cold lover's arms to wrap me in the blackest nights drowning in starless skies. It's windy tongue to lap against my neck; raining down on me with heavy grey clouds pressing the heavens close to the earth in a wet grip on this darkest of kisses.  For the leaves to fall in my golden crown. I came here all dirty hearts and bloody hands to let the rain wash me clean. There is no beauty you can find in me and my kiss is as wet as dead leaves.

You should have left me here. I was quietly getting on with my life. But your fingers nimbly plucked my strings against my wooden constitution. I felt what you had in you pouring into me. Empty vessel that I am. The wind filling me up all vibrating on and on and on. I came back to where I first realized I loved you and tried to drown in the waves crashing over my head. The ocean spat me back out and the fall wouldn't let me come here anymore.

I traced the patches of your skin over your Apache heart letting the sharpness of your words sink into me. Your hatred of what I meant now becoming my song. You called me the silly pine tree girl raised in these mountains where only dangerous rivers run to the ocean following the trail to where my legs finally came to rest. He said he hated these cliffs just like you hate my bending will in dripping mornings and this stupid way to say a detached goodbye.

When they come for me, and they will, I'll tell them about you and that heart of yours. I'll tell them how you never spoke to me again. I'll tell them about how I held you in my arms in the softly fading light. I'll tell them how you occupied my mind. How I whispered in your ear as you fell asleep. How I whispered to your Apache heart the secrets of running away and kissed you goodbye for the last time.

My heart's a mess and I just continue living like this.

Flaming Underwear Upside the Head

Somebody better come up with a solution for this shit real fucking quick because I am starting to lack feeling for anything or anybody and that could be bad for all of you. If I ever figure out how to wire toasters to explode, your breakfast could suddenly be very exciting. I might be a breakfast food terrorist and start hiding in your jam with loaded weapons ready to pop out covered in sticky strawberry goo and lobbing grenades at you while you rub the sleep out of your eyes. If I had a nickle for every time I thought about fragging someone over waffles and coffee, I'd be a rather rich woman.

Maybe I'll train an army of carnivorous dust-bunnies to attack you in your sleep. You'll suddenly wake up choking on dust mites and having your toes nibbled off by sharp little furry teeth. That shit would suck. Or maybe I'll put venomous snakes in you shower drain and poisonous toads in your toilet. Maybe I'll set fire to your underwear drawer, rig your doorbell to electrocute you and eat the last piece of pie without offering you any.

The point to all of this is: I'm losing my sympathy for your plight. I'm finding I don't much care for your dirty socks or your morning breath. I don't really care what you think about... well... anything. And I'd really like my fucking comic books back. And my hat. It was my favorite. And don't forget to fall down the stairs on your way out, asshole.

PS; I rigged one of your sex toys to detonate the next time you use it. Toodles! :)

Freezing in the Deep

There are sharks out there. Big bull-headed things with gaping jaws and rows of ridged teeth. It's too cold for them here so they freeze in the deep and sluggishly wait for prey to come to them. The whales fair better with their fatty skin and massive size and they kill Great Whites in tropical waters much to the bewilderment of shocked marine biologists. The Killers come here to eat Steelheads impressing the tourists with their eyes glued to binoculars clinging to the railings of expensive boats.

I stood in the surf today letting the cold waves crash over me. This bay is too sheltered for such wildlife except for screeching seagulls waiting for garbage scraps from careless sunbathers and the occasional seal making it's way to better fishing grounds. I saw no sharks and heard no whale songs. The water was cool, murky and the big barges hauling god-knows-what shimmered in the distance against the horizon.

The breakers were bigger than usual flinging nude bathers towards the shore with delighted squeals and chirps.  It was these waves that caused so many shipwrecks once upon a time crashing ancient ships into the shallow beaches. I could have rode those waves forever. Set myself to sea like a Haida canoe. Just to stay out there searching for uninhabited islands and those big coastal Pacific octopuses. I could decorate myself in purple starfish, green seaweed and little shells. I could be a shark if I wanted to be.

There was a time when I brought lovers here but they have this tendency to try and drown my heart in these frigid waters. They like to see if it will burn up in the sunset and then silently follow me up the stairs with my now all empty chest and dripping hair. Here I am suddenly unable to breath on land. If I keep my hands below the water maybe it will all come back to me. That skin glistening and wet as he walked the beach towards me. Warm to the touch absorbing all the sunlight to it. Those eyes lost somewhere else, not here, not with me but somewhere un-described and dark. My own skin never actually warming but cold as milk and just as white. I think I came here to drown something of my self but the truth is I just end up floating and someone always tries to make an island of me.

Alice's Ass

Norman was the kind of man you could set your watch to. Always on time. Always reliable. Always impeccably dressed in dark suit and tie. His dark hair always worn in the same fashion, short and neat.  His shoes always shined and his creases always sharp. His world worked on a strict set of orderly rules. He got up at the same time every day. He ate the same breakfast. He went to his job by the same route and always got to work 5 minutes early. Norman worked as an insurance adjuster for the biggest company in the state. He always took lunch at exactly twelve o'clock and fed the birds in the park near his office. He came home at the same time everyday and rarely spoke to anyone he didn't have some sort of transaction with like the cashier at the supermarket or the landlord when rent was due.

Alice on the other hand was not the kind of woman you could set anything to, unless you wanted to set it on fire. Norman met Alice the day she crashed her car into a store front while doing over 90 miles an hour on a residential street. She was miraculously uninjured. A lot of things about Alice were miraculous. She explained that she had been drag racing some local suburban teens to teach them a lesson about what a real car could do and she wouldn't have crashed if one of the little buggers hadn't rammed her in an attempt to cheat to win. Alice sat across from Norman's desk in his neutrally painted office (the company said the colour kept clients calmer when the adjusters were delivering bad news) as she explained all this. She was wearing a extremely low cut skin tight shimmery red dress that stopped several inches above her knees, tall shiny black leather boots, and expensive looking leather driving gloves. Her lips were painted to match her dress as were her nails. Her hair was shockingly black, long and wild and her eyes were a piercing green. Norman thought to himself when she walked in that she looked like the kind of woman who was nothing but trouble. Alice thought to herself when she walked in that Norman looked like the kind of man that could put you to sleep in the middle of sex.

Norman told Alice that her car was a write-off and that the insurance company would not cover much of the replacement costs as the accident by her own admission was Alice's fault. After all, she was drag racing. "What kind of woman drag races?" Norman thought. This was the part where clients usually got very upset and started yelling at the unflappable Norman. Alice, however, did not get upset but instead wet her red lips and said it didn't really matter anyways. She had other cars and she was only in Norman's office as a matter of formality. "Yup," Norman thought to himself, "nothing but trouble."  Their business concluded, Alice got up and with a short goodbye left Norman's office with a swaying shapely rear-end that even made Norman notice as she walked away. He shook his head and got back to his paper work.

All that week Norman found his thoughts drifting to Alice's rump as it left his office. He could not figure out why for the life of him the thought of her swaying back-end would pop into his head at inopportune moments. While he was in a department meeting, there she'd be until someone asked him a question and snapped him back to reality. While he was driving those delicious orbs would appear in his minds eye until he suddenly realized he almost missed his exit and he had to quickly swerve into the right lane. Alice's ass was occupying a lot of Norman's normally clockwork mind and it was troubling him greatly. Sure he'd found himself attracted to pretty women before but to nice girls from good homes with nice parents. Not ludicrously dressed hussies with money to burn and no common sense. Eventually Norman even found himself thinking of Alice and her ass as he lay in bed at night not getting his usual carefully timed 7 hours of sleep with his dick hardening against his pajama pants. This is foolish he told himself and willed himself to sleep all week long but Alice's rear never strayed far from his mind.

Alice's claim was settled the next week and much to Norman's dismay she was across from his desk again. This time in a slinky tight horribly low cut top and even tighter looking pants made out of some sort of shiny black material that looked like it had been painted on her. She wore black patent leather stilettos and black leather fingerless gloves. She had on a silver necklace with a blood red ruby pendant nestled in her cleavage as a focal point for any wandering eyes to rest on. Norman tried to keep his eyes down and off her cleavage as he filled out the final paper work and explained the terms of the settlement to Alice. Alice nodded along to what Norman said, slowly uncrossing and recrossing her legs and occasionally running her tongue over the edge of her lips. Norman felt something stir in his pants but willed the feeling away.

"And I just need you to sign here and here and we're done." Norman said sliding the paper over to Alice. Alice bent over the desk as far as she could, exposing her supple ample cleavage as she picked up the pen and scrawled her signature. Norman's breath caught in his throat at the sight of those mounds and he had to quickly look away as he blushed to what felt like his very bones.

Alice pushed the paper back to Norman and said, "Thank you for everything, Nor-man." dragging out the syllables of his name over her lush lips, "You've been most helpful." She leaned over the desk and kissed Norman on the cheek and quickly turned around on her shiny black stilettos and wiggled her ass out of Norman's office once again. Norman felt light-headed.

Later that evening as Norman made his way to his car in the parking garage he still felt light-headed. The rest of the day had been a blur around him and Norman's world felt distinctly out of order. How the hell had one little kiss from a pretty woman fucked up his nice little ordered world so much, Norman wondered as he made his way through the parking lot. No one ever got under his skin. How had this happened? Fuck. Norman was walking with his head down pondering this new development in his universe when he heard a soft cough from behind him. He whirled around only to come face to face with Alice leaning against a sleek black sports car that looked fast even sitting still, just like Alice.

"You need a ride?", she asked with a sultry swagger to her voice.

Norman wasn't sure how it happened but suddenly he was saying yes and was now speeding down the freeway at ridiculous speeds in the passenger seat of Alice's very fast car with a very fast Alice sitting next to him gunning the engine in her ridiculously tight pants. "Fuck," thought Norman, "I'm the fucking ridiculous one here." She seemed to be one with car; it responded to her every little movement like they were on the same wave-length. She pushed the car faster as Norman clung to the dash trying to catch his breathe. "Jesus Christ" thought Norman, "what have I gotten myself into?" Alice turned to him and flashed him a smile that would set even the most pious monk's cock on fire. Norman felt the blood in his body rush downward.

They raced past exit 37. "Hey! That was my exit!" Norman said over the roar of the engine swiveling his head as the exit zipped by.

Alice turned to him, winked and said, "You need to loosen up, Norman the insurance adjuster!" Norman's dick hardened a little.

Alice drove them out to a secluded look-out just outside of the city. It didn't take them long to get there because Alice broke all of the speed limits and barely slowed down for yellow lights. Norman didn't take his grip off of the dashboard until they came to a full stop and Alice put the car into park.

"Jes-sus." Norman exhaled shaking his head, "What are we doing here anyways?"

Alice just smiled a deep red luscious smile and suddenly Norman found time jumping again and he was in the back seat of Alice's car with his head buried in Alice's cleavage and her ass firmly gripped by both of his hands. Alice was ripping his shirt off and kissing him hard. Norman soon found himself stripping her ridiculously tight clothing off and practically shoving his tongue down Alice's throat. Norman had never felt such sexual abandon or abandon about anything really. He realized right then, with his face buried in Alice's crotch, that he had never felt strongly about anything at all. Nothing ever excited him. All the sex he had ever had was dull and safe.  All the women he had ever dated were dull and safe. His job was dull and safe. His life was just one big fucking dull colourless moment moving to another one. His life was just a carefully measured march to the grave. Alice was alive like no one he had ever met. She was pure, unadulterated pleasure and speed and carelessness. She was living like Norman never had. Her writhing naked body underneath him set him on fire. His world was suddenly on fire.

Alice, for her part, was just pleased to find out that Norman was surprisingly well endowed, ate pussy like a demon and was an extremely enthusiastic fuck for such a boring looking guy. Alice knew from experience that dull men like Norman just needed a good kick-start and that the most repressed motherfuckers could be the best lays if you wound them up just right. And Alice was an expert at winding men up.

She left Norman standing on his front lawn with a deep throbbing in his well-ridden cock, holding his crumpled suit jacket against his now not-so-perfectly creased pants and with a stunned look on his face as she sped away in her expensive sports car with her wild black hair streaming behind her.

Out of the haze, Norman realized that every night for the rest of his life he was going to dream of Alice's perfect ass and wonder what the fuck had hit him.

The next day, Norman was late for work for the first time in his life.

Who Wrote This Crap?

I'm not dead. My cells live and breathe. They feed on me, not on you. I have light and beauty pent up in my dark little heart and sometimes... just sometimes... I let someone else see it. I got this love, you see, and I was hoping you wanted it. But I'll keep it buried in my dark chambers. It's mine. I'll have it and I'll keep it. I'll save it up like pennies in a jar. I think you're foolish to neglect such a gift but fuck it. I'll keep it all for myself and mail you little scraps of it so you can remember what it's like to have someone care about you.