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Come here, my darling.
Spread open that beautiful mind of yours,
And let me finger your most intimate thoughts.
I don't want a gentle love tonight...
I want your lust to tear flesh
from my bones and leave me ravaged.

COMMENTS

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Cadrewolf2
06:10 Sep 30 2025

wow

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"Yes, I dream of many things," I smiled... "and the thought of your hand between my legs is just one of them. Now shut up and kiss me."

Then you destroyed me.

With lips thirsty for thighs and knees pushed apart.

I believe in love and lust
and sex and romance.
I don't want everything to add up
to some perfect equation.

I want mess and chaos.

I want someone to go crazy
out of their mind for me.

I want to feel passion and
heat and sweat and madness
and I want valentines and
Cupids and all the rest of
that crap.

I want it all.

you can rest
your body parts for now,
i'll be fucking your
soul first.

"It's all in your head!"

yes, its all in my head,
that's quit literally the problem.
in my head is my brain, a vital organ.

they call it a mental illness,
but a broken brain affects the entire body.

telling someone "it's all in your head" is as useless as telling someone having a heart attack that it's "all in your heart."

let's pull all of the skeletons from our closets and build a fort in the living room from their bones. we'll drape them in blankets of understanding and cuddle inside, just the two of us.
no amount of brittle bones filled with marrow of your past will keep me from building a home with you.

I really wanted it to be you,
I so badly wanted it to be you,
Until I understood
You didn't want it to be me.

I blocked Him with the very same hand I used to put it back in when it slipped out.

It's getting bad?
No, I'm not getting bad "again".
This isn't something "temporary". This is the state I've been in for a long time. But when I become mentally exhausted from all the pretending, that's when you see it too. It's getting bad "again" for YOU.
Because for me, this is something I have to deal with every day.
Every hour.
Every Moment.
I am only showing you the tip of my emotions, because if I let you see it all, you won't be able to comprehend how I am even still alive.
You've seen nothing.

The first man in my life taught me to be terrified of others like him.
Whenever I wept he told me not to cry or he'd give me something to cry about.
And so I learned to swallow the sadness and turn it to anger instead.
They did always say I was just like my Dad; just never to his face.

And bless the daughter
but fuck the family.
What is a home
if not the first place you learn to run from?

You've got to bite the hand
that starves you, and in doing so
Praise the place that birthed you.
Birthed you fucked up.
Birthed you ugly, and interesting,
and ready to scream.