welcome! you can navigate with the links up above. here’s my childhood bedroom along with my current writing space.
not pictured; me scribbling illegibly into my notebook at a bar or tapping away at the notes app in my phone.
enjoy poking around!
i used to love the way you said
my name, softly with a smile and then
intensely. now you won’t
say a word and i burn for you—
your lewd, often sweet voice over
the phone and
your growling. gripping me in
your arms and not letting go as
you ruin me, wantonly staring me
down like the barrel
of a shotgun— execution style
out back at the woodshed. guttural
groans as you explode, loosening
your grip on my neck with each hot
pulse. my eyes roll back as you
deliver your final pumps, me clenching
all around you in ecstasy, needing you
deeper still. clawing at
your back as you devour me and
nothing else mattered. seal it
with a kiss.
take me back i am begging you
to that bed, to that man.
prying emotions with forceps because i
cannot properly Be. i know that
parts of me remain, lost in
the murky broth of my mind. i write
and i scratch and i yell and
i sob into the void begging to be heard
and told i am not alone. a warm hug
to carry, a forehead kiss. an inviting
hand, a waist grab. it’ll be okay.
did any of it happen? was any of it
real? i could touch you and breathe you
and feel you so deeply, feel
your hazely eyes searing me up
and down, hot and heavy. i miss you
at all hours, raw and beating.
were you genuine when you said you
wanted me? or was it just for that
particular set of weeks until it was
time to turn me into a ghost.
and for what, to preserve
your fragility at the expense of
authentic warmth? reduced to a
punchline, a comment where
i once Was. i will win no accolades
for hiding my heartache. i have been
stripped of what little poker face i’ve
ever had. you used to turn me inside
out. my days are numbered, now.
it will boomerang, darling. it
always does.
the MARS DEN 