Cherry-Acid

pictures of her smile and his kiss, spark worry and fear onto my thoughts like flint and steel onto tinder, igniting violent infernos inside me that rush through my nerves like brushfire. although she has discontinued her conversational services with him, i however, hear her still, like the memory of a lover i’ve never known. her voice creates waking nightmares that act as blustering winds that feed this blaze. all i own to extinguish these flames are ducts of bitter, dribbling, fluid. but this water cannot resolve any issues of fright. and with each kiss and each glance rage spreads, rapidly circling and moving t

she informs my ears, in that soft tilted voice, she’s not pretty enough and with that twisted look, she’s not deserving. her empty words and my emptier response prepare her body to pounce on mine, while i push out replies, like excrement from a bovine’s puckered hole. she watches them flop to the ground, smelling the suspicious matter. appreciating the form and skill with which the pile has grown, she spreads her mouth. she spreads her legs. i lie. i lie. i lie. i look away from her talk and towards her wet mouth. that cunt feels so good wrapped around me, that i suffer her conversations, just to fe

uttering incomplete thoughts, i tried to erase all the words i had said and meant. with explanations of quasi- questionable-statements i attempted to eradicate our unique romance cues; breathing kisses into each other with “I love” and “I missed”, to the corresponding you, salivating on your chest while sleeping in a bed made for one. attempts to eliminate us end in vomitus lies about my devotion, plummeting to the floor. this experience compliments my regretful heart, because you possess me.