Pills for Breakfast

I rolled over and pushed my face into the pillow. The sun streamed in the window around the edges of the dark drape I had hung to keep it out and stabbed my eyes as my morning headache filled my sinuses. This headache was getting to be a reoccurring daily theme. I untangled my hair from my face blinking into the dim light of the bedroom. My mouth felt like someone had laid shag carpeting in it and I knew I needed to get up to spit the vile slime out of my throat so I wouldn't start choking. There are several bottles of pills waiting for me by the sink. My bladder painfully stabbed me to let me know it still existed and was upset that it was full. I pressed my palms into my eyes ignoring my body's various complaints trying to assure myself that today was going to be different. I knew I was probably telling myself a lie.

I'd been in love with several different men this last year. They were all men I had been in love with before and each time we met it always ended in some disaster or another. This year was no different. It was a routine I had become comfortable with in an odd sort of way. Love someone. Make sure the emotions are complicated. Make sure the situation is even more complicated. Make sure someone gets hurt (usually me). Lather. Rinse. Repeat. At least these meetings of bodies and emotions were always brief so I always had lots of time afterwards to dwell on what had happened and how it had gone wrong so quickly so I could actively apply my expertize in over-analyzing.

I had my beautiful lover in the summer heat whom I laid with on the beach as he got increasingly uncomfortable with my presence. I still can't figure out why he wanted me there in the first place. I had considered just drowning myself in the waves to make the whole situation less tense. There was my lover in the fall who swooped in with a surprise phone call at 3 o'clock in the morning, fucked me hard through the morning in a hotel room, and swooped back out when his ex-girlfriend made her usual plea for his savior complex. This has been our usual arrangement for when he is in town for several years. There of course was the man I have known since I was a teenager whom took my tender virginity after we had made sure to be as drunk as humanly possible and still standing one night a very long time ago. The love, however, I feel for him seems to be moving into a place of deeper friendship than I ever thought possible for the two us. I found myself adoring his girlfriend and meeting his other girlfriend and liking her a lot too. They've made sure to make me a part of their group of friends and every time we go out dancing and drinking all together I end up having a great time despite myself. I often think we should do it more frequently. We always end up telling stories to everyone else about our youthful escapades the drunker we get. I'm sure everyone is sick of hearing the same stories over and over again but we just can't help expounding on our shared history.

As I lay in bed cursing the sun and the dull pain behind my eyes I thought of the people who have slipped into my life and into my bed over the years. Then I thought about how nice it is to have this big bed all to myself as I was stretching my limbs out to the four corners with the cats murmuring as I gently nudged them. Four years ago, or maybe it's five years now, when I broke up with my last officially sanctioned boyfriend, I swore I won't get into another relationship and mostly I've kept that promise to myself. I don't like who I turn into when I have to be around someone else for too long but then again I can't seem to stop myself from loving people. Maybe I do it so I have something to write about. Maybe I do it to drive myself crazy. Maybe I do it have something else to think about other the ennui that seems to be taking me over on a daily basis. Maybe I do it so I can get laid. I close my eyes and think about the new attractive young man I seem to be developing a crush on.

My bladder stabs me again and I finally get up to pee.

You Were Always On My Mind

I want you to know that sometimes I fuck you in my dreams, slow and deliberately with an aching passion that brings the moments of climax to ever brightening conclusions. Our skin shining in the moonlight. Our fingers entwined as our breath rises and falls to the rhythm of our movements. In my dreams I kiss you as deeply as the cool ocean. I love you like a collision of stars crashing and falling over our heads. I taste you. I lick you. I devour you like candy. Our bodies slide together in the slickness of sex and crushing desire. We are a tangled mass of limbs and delicate heat. We fall in love over and over again and the world slips away.

And other times in my dreams I tear your fucking throat out and drink myself full of your red gushing blood. Or I simply put a gun to the back of your head and paint the wall with your brain matter. I take your heart out with a big knife fist deep in your chest and I eat it. Devour the raw meat with a face covered in gore. I throw you into a shallow grave, pour gasoline on you and set you on fire. I watch you burn alive as your face contorts into frozen screams. I open you up from stem to stern and let your guts spill out like a crimson wave onto the pavement. Sometimes I keep your heart in box lined with red foil as a memento mori of my eternal violence. I poison your drink and watch you slip to the floor into a debilitating coma. I wrap my fingers around your throat and squeeze until every last bit of air has left your lungs and you've turned a lovely hue of purple. I put my knee into your throat and your neck makes a satisfying snap like candy and the world slips away.

That's how you can tell I love you. I either want to fuck you or I want to fucking kill you. Either way, you are always on my mind.

Waste Not, Want Not

I wrote my entire life story on the edge of a very sharp, very large knife so when I slit the throats of my lovers they would know why.

My Sex was Weaponized

"You see, there have been men I loved and men I had the vague urge to kill is some very violent and graphic ways. I'm not sure where you fall in that spectrum." I said to him as he took his clothes off. I felt for the gun under the mattress just to reassure myself that we were on the right path. That I had an out if I needed it. The cold metal against my palm calmed my nerves slowing down my pulse as more and more of his milky skin was exposed with each item of clothing dropped to the floor. He gave me his bedroom eyes as his belt descended with a thunk.

By the time his underwear came off he was as hard as granite. Soon his hands were reaching for me to undo the buttons on my pants and lift up my shirt in one swift delirious motion. I felt all the blood in my body rush between my legs making my head a little lighter than it should have been. With a few tugs and jerks of fabric against skin I found myself as naked as him. He ran his eyes over my body assessing the mounds of quivering flesh that laid out before him with his dick firmly in his hand.

He turned his dark eyes on me and with lush lips parted whispered, "You know, you'd look better if you lost 20 pounds."

I leveled the gun with his nose and thumbed back the hammer.

Talking Through the Hole in Your Chest

When I saw myself as an instrument of vengeance, I did not see myself a slick, shining smooth god flying somewhere near the sun. I didn't see myself with perfect skin and a sly smile as I was sticking knives into deserving chests.  No black trench coat. No secret sex language. I wasn't golden at all. I saw something else. I knew what I could become.

I saw myself more like Kali with her grotesque lips peeled back in a grimacing smile to reveal a hundred teeth and a lulling tongue; her cunt the black gateway to the end of the world. She knew what it meant to sever heads and drink blood. I saw myself with great black demonic wings and the sharpest teeth you ever saw. A head full of shark teeth. Claws an inch long dripping in rotten flesh. The Great Devourer. Perfect only in destruction and her ability to mete it out. A heart ripper; straight out of the chest. A heart eater, blood dripping down my chin. Shreds of meat still stuck in my teeth. Eyes glowing piss yellow looking to eat all your bad, bad deeds. 

And I might set you aflame. I like how immolation tastes on my tongue. I like shallow graves and flames reaching the sky. You know she calls for it. Her great sword lifted high over her head; she screams your name with every girl you rape and every life you take. Have you met my sisters? Furies each and every one of them. Those are snakes in their hands. The stories said Athena tamed them, but the truth... The truth was they tore right through her. Left the bitch bleeding in her own temple and hounded Orestes until he ripped his own eyes out of his head.  They drank the fluid in his brain and snapped his bones open to suck the marrow straight out. You can't stop the anger of the dead.

I am the grotesque. The perfect rotting center of the world. With a thousand eyes turned in all directions in all time I felt every wrong. Every death. Every crying mass curled on the floor. Every shuttering breath as a heart stopped in the hands of the wrong person. And I came for them all. Black lips, shark teeth, hatred turning my skin languid. I came with knives. And I came with swords. I came with a shot to the back of the head.

I ripped them apart. I ate the parts I wanted and spat the rest back out. I sucked the juice from their eyes. I broke their spines and let them live without limbs. I slit stomachs open and read the entrails like star maps. I felt skulls crush under my fingers. I snapped vertebrae like brittle candy. I howled. I screeched. I hounded. I raced through the back roads of the worlds. I chased and I hunted and I ate my fill. I killed with fear. I killed with teeth.  I killed with a smile. I killed until the world was clean and still it was never enough.

That's when I decided to burn the whole fucking thing down. May some god with more mercy and patience than I save you all.

The Bomb

I want to form my heart into a weapon of mass destruction. I want to kiss you until I incinerate you. Immolate you; set a fire so fucking big you can see it from space. I got a heart of broken glass and fiery hate and divine love. I keep dynamite stuffed in my bra and accelerant tucked in the band of my underwear. I can rig your sex toys to explode. I may have already set fire to your sheets while you were in the bathroom. I unhooked all the fire alarms and disabled the sprinkler system. I have molotov cocktails brewing in the shower and I filled the refrigerator with C4. Don't jiggle the handle or you will set if off. Let's fire bomb our enemies. Let's burn up the neighborhood. I'm your pipe bomb, bombshell. I've got the detonator and the urge to use it. Ain't nobody surviving my love. I'm the heart demolisher and I'm gonna bomb you back to the stone age, fucker.

Blame

If I told you that I loved you, would you hold it against me?