Cold and lonely on a hillside
My skin is full of holes. Little indentations, little caves. My skin is crawling with creatures from the depths Of the tunnels in my body. Wolves and hyenas heckling and jeering. Bears and ogres wailing at the moon, Begging to be absolved of their sins, Asking why they find themselves banished to my caves. My heart hurts, it tenses. My lungs heart, they’re empty. My shoulders hurt, they’ve been screaming for days. My soul hurts, it wants to sleep. To sleep, per chance to dream, Of pain, of sin, of heartbreak. Violence paints the insides of my veins. While I think of a knife entering my neck. My dick is broken, apologies for being crass. But to be honest with you, it’s driving me to the point of insanity. She thinks it’s her, or it’s me, or it’s us. She think it means something. I think it means nothing, just punishment for a crime I don’t remember. I’m ashamed, of my dick, my sex, my kisses. I want to crawl under the bed,...
